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

Johnny wasn’t easy to deal with. I knew that after only a few days with him.

"Let's go back," he said, and I nodded.

I wrapped my arm around his waist as we walked. The warmth from his body stopped the shivering and I pulled him a little closer. Pressed up against him made it hard to focus on anything else than the looks he’d given me, and what it could lead to.

8

Intimacy

As we sat on the sofa, one and a half bottles of red wine into the night, he looked at me with such intensity it made me blush. I was no longer surprised that every time he looked at me, I found it hard to breathe. But there was something more to it this time.

Those deep, dark eyes burned with something I hadn’t seen before and couldn’t explain. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

We’d had a few glasses of wine, but we weren’t drunk. Far from it, so I couldn’t blame his actions on the alcohol, even though it would’ve made more sense. Squirming under his gaze, I averted my eyes and pretended to study the fireplace.

“Bree . . .”

I glanced back, finding him awkwardly looking down at his hands.

“Hmm?”

He looked up. “You saved my life—in the storm. But the thing is . . .” He once again trailed off, giving me a small smile. “You keep on doing it, just by being here.”

It wasn’t what I’d expected, but I had a vague idea of what he was talking about. A pang of regret shot through me as the notebook came into my mind. I shouldn’t have read it. If he wanted to tell me, he would. But once the words were seen, I could not unsee them.

I wish I could end it all . . .

The words stayed in my mind, and when he brought it up, something about those words bothered me.

End it . . .

I’d assumed he’d meant the drama, but what if it had been more than that? What if he’d meant it on a much deeper level?

You saved my life; you keep on doing it . . .

I wasn’t sure what to think, but no matter what, I didn’t want to face what my heart already knew. It was too horrible to imagine.

"The reason I came out here . . . knowing about the storm,” Johnny’s voice brought my attention back to him. “I just wanted to get away from it all.” He fell silent for a long time, and I started to doubt he was going to continue. He twisted his scarf between his fingers, once again chewing that sexy bottom lip. Talking about it wasn’t easy for him, but finally, he took a deep breath and went on.

“You read about it; Nancy Webber. It’s in every fucking media across the country.”

I nodded. Maybe I’d been naive, but I was convinced Johnny couldn’t have done the things he was accused of. Of course, I’d never known if the tabloids were telling the truth or not. I’d made myself believe what I wanted to believe.

“It’s all lies,” he sighed, hanging his head. “Well, not everything. I did spend time with her, but that’s it.” He looked intently into my eyes. “I never hurt her, or any of the other shit she’s claiming.” His eyes burned into mine, andI could see the despair—the desperate need for me to believe him. When he spoke again, his deep voice trembled.

“Everything’s a bloody mess. It’s bad, really bad.” He took a deep breath. “You have to believe me. If it’s money she’s after . . . I’ll give her everything she wants. I just want this to be over.”

I nodded, giving myself a few minutes to take everything in. When I refocused on him, he looked so miserable my heart ached.

“I never believed in those stories. And that was before I knew you.”

A ghost of a smile flashed across his lips but then it was gone as fast as it had appeared.

I scooted closer, laying a hand on his arm. “It’ll be okay. She can’t get away with shit like that. You’ll see.”

“How do you do it?”

My voice was just a soft murmur as I asked, “Do what?”

“Stay so fucking positive.”

Was that a hypothetical question, or was I supposed to answer that? I wasn’t sure, but found myself mulling over the answer. “It’s just who I am,” I said at last.

"That's what I mean, Bree."

I raised an eyebrow and he gave me a small smile.

"You make me feel like I can go through this."

My eyes filled with tears, but I managed to smile. "You can.” I paused. "Don't let her bring you down, she’s not worth it. And you know what they say, the truth always comes out."

He looked up and when our eyes met, neither of us looked away.

“I came here to—" His words caught in his throat and it seemed like he was struggling with them. “To be alone,” he said at last. The haunted look on his face made me believe it wasn’t the full truth, but maybe I had imagined the worst. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d jumped to the wrong conclusions. I was known to make a mountain out of a molehill.

“I’m glad you’re here with me.”

I smiled. “Me too.”

“And uh—"

I waited.

“Sorry for the drinking, I was . . ." Once again he didn’t finish the sentence. The guessing game started to get annoying, even though I’d gotten used to it. Instead of speaking, he just looked at me. The intensity of his gaze pulled me toward him. Little impulses flew through my body until every inch tingled with heat. He leaned closer, making my heart leap into my throat.

One of his hands reached out, brushing hair out of my face. The soft touch of his fingers sent shivers all through me, and I could barely keep from gasping out loud. His fingers slid into my hair and there they stayed as we simultaneously closed the