Johnny & I : The Island by Daria Paus (hardest books to read txt) 📕

guy to drool over, he was so much more than that. And it made me feel even deeper for him.

I smiled up at him as his secrets burned deeply in my heart and mind.

"How are you doin’?” I asked.

He’d put on a shirt and buttoned it. I did prefer him without one, but it made me happy to see him feeling better.

“Headache's gone," he replied. "Back's still sore, but better."

"I'm glad."

"What about breakfast?" he asked.

My smile widened. “Sounds grand.”

“Great. You’re gonna make it.”

I stared at him, and the embarrassed look on his face made me laugh.

“I thought you said you know how to cook?” I said. “Prove it.”

He chuckled, but shook his head. “I can cook, just . . . not now.”

I couldn’t help but snort.

∞∞∞

When we were done eating, Johnny decided to show me around. Somehow the storm made the exploration of the island a little more adventurous. As we headed across the lawn, down to the largest stretch of the beach, I couldn't help but steal a glance at him. With the wind whipping his hair back, and the thin white shirt in which the top buttons had come loose, he looked sexier than ever. Not even the shadow of sadness that lingered on his face could diminish his beauty. I couldn't take my eyes off him. Not even when he looked back could I bring myself to look away. But to my surprise, he averted his eyes.

We walked in silence. When we reached the beach we stopped, watching the waves as they came in endless motion, devouring the sand with white foam and deafening roars. There was something special about a storm. The power it had over the sea was breathtaking. The taste of salt in the air and the typical seaside smell made me think back to my younger years when I'd been with my dad on his fishing boat back in Ireland. The memory made me smile, and for a few moments, I lost myself in the thought.

I felt Johnny’s gaze on me but didn't move. In my peripheral view I saw him standing there, eyeing me. I gulped, letting out a breath in slow motion just to suck a new one in just as slow. It didn't help my quickly racing heart. Shit. He was checking me out.

I cleared my throat, keeping my eyes locked on the horizon. "It's beautiful," I said, hoping my voice didn't sound as breathless as I felt.

He didn’t look away. “Yeah."

I finally looked at him, and as my eyes flickered to meet his, the pull of his gaze caught me like a fly in a spider’s web. I couldn't look away. I couldn't even breathe.

He broke the magic by tearing his gaze away, and I managed to catch my breath. For a few moments, I stood there, dazed and lightheaded from the sudden intensity of the moment, then I moved to sit, hoping the distraction would be enough to gather my composure.

The white sand was as soft as it looked but colder than I’d hoped for.

As I sat, staring at the surf, Johnny moved to sit next to me. His hand reached out, landing in my hair. His fingers brushed stubborn locks of orange tangles out of my face, and I froze, breath once again catching in my throat.

I slowly turned my head, and the motion made his fingers brush across my cheek. A bolt of electricity shot through me at the mere contact of our skin, and a gasp flew off my lips. He snatched his hand back.

"Sorry," he said.

I was sure I was supposed to say something, but could only stare at him. And honestly, what was I supposed to say? Don’t apologize… It was a good option, but way too bold and way too obvious. Touch me, my mind suggested. You can tell him that. I blushed.

He’d looked at me with clear intentions, but it didn't make sense. This was not some average douchebag, giving me dirty looks in the streets. This was Johnny Grey. A guy who could get any girl he wanted. A guy who could make any girl swoon from a look way less intense than what he’d given me. Me. I didn't know what to do. I didn't understand, but did it matter? I had a hot Hollywood star right next to me. A Hollywood star who's hittin' on you. My mind added and my cheeks burned. Just thinking of the possibilities was enough to make my pulse go wild.

Eventually the wind started to grow cold, and before I knew it, I was shivering. Johnny got back up on his feet, reaching out a hand for me. My hand trembled when I took it and let him pull me to my feet.

He hesitated, then wrapped an arm around my shoulders, giving me the impression that he thought the gesture was justified if I was freezing. That somehow it made it all right to touch me. But no matter the reason, the small action kicked my mind into overdrive. If he for some strange reason wanted me, why didn't he just make a move? He must know I would never be able to say no. Wasn't it embarrassingly obvious that I was attracted to him?

The words he’d written about girls came to my mind. How they were all the same, how fed up he seemed to be with the female sex. And it made perfect sense. But I started to think there was more to it than that. Was it possible that someone as perfect and famous as Johnny could be that insecure, and have bad luck when it came to women? I couldn’t recall ever reading about him having a successful relationship. And it seemed that every time, he was the one with the broken heart, and the women spreading rumors.

‘He’s impossible to be with.’ 

‘He’s too much hard work.’ 

‘He’s not the person I thought he was.’

I hated to admit the possibility of them being right, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that