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

talked directly to me. Hell, he'd even touched me, and even though my skin still burned from the contact, I couldn't accept it as my reality. It felt like a dream, or a strange manifestation of my fantasies at the most.

Letting the now cold water and myself out of the tub, I reached for a towel hanging on the nearest wall.

Dry and dressed in my borrowed clothes, I reached for the door, opened it and stepped out into the corridor. As I stood there trying to decide what to do, my belly mass-produced butterflies. A few deep breaths didn’t calm them down. He'd told me to join him, but I was sure it had been out of politeness. The reason he came to this island in the first place was to get away from people, and here I was, invading his privacy when all he wanted was to be left alone. He’d already made that perfectly clear. And you already called him an asshole, the little voice quickly reminded me. I mentally kicked myself for being stupid. Even if only uttering the words mentally, I still felt embarrassed knowing who I’d had such thoughts about.

Shit. This was actually happening.

The reality started to catch up, and in a few seconds, all the late reactions washed over me at once. My legs turned to jelly. I had to lean against the wall for support.

A few steps away from me was one of the most famous people in the world. His face adorned every magazine; he topped the lists of sexiest men of the year, and I could not argue that. He was every girl's dream and the main object of my late-night fantasies.

And he is right here, my mind added. The thought of it made my heart beat faster. Johnny Grey. The Johnny Grey. In person. Alone. With me.

Shit. I reached for my hair, trying to fluff it up, but it was to no use since it was still wet and hanging down my back in a tangled mess. I shook my head at the absurdity. I get to meet the hottest guy on this planet, and I look like I've been chewed up and spat out. It felt like a sick joke. Normally I was proud of my long, red curls that glistened in the sun like a sparkling fire. Just my luck. I looked like shit, I could barely stand, and I hadn’t even gone to see him yet.

The clothes which I had borrowed hung on my body in an unflattering way. They reminded me of what I used to wear at home when I didn't have to worry about looking pretty for anyone but my family and the horses. I sucked in deep breaths to keep from fainting; I desperately wished I could have been better prepared.

Having no other choice, I went to find him. The mere sight of him sitting by the fireplace once again rendered me speechless. The glow from the burning fire gave enough light to see him clearly and I did my best not to stare, and instead focused on the room.

It was sparsely decorated. The massive black leather sofa was the main attraction. On a wooden table in front of it stood a group of empty bottles, and one that was half full. A blanket had slid off the back of the sofa and lay forgotten in a pile on the floor. The lack of life and decor made me suspect that this house had never included a woman. Where were the plants? The candles? The cozy pillows, and the rugs?

"Hey. Feeling better?” he asked.

I managed a nod, inching closer to him and the sofa. He looked at me and the world stopped turning right then and there. I couldn’t breathe, nor move. It felt as though my feet had sprouted roots and were now attached to the floor. Those dark eyes which I had dreamed of gazing into were now locked on mine.

God, he’s gorgeous, the voice in my mind swooned. Just look at him. I didn't just look; I was drowning in those eyes. The butterflies in my belly multiplied and spread until my whole body tingled with a feeling I couldn’t understand or explain. My belly twisted and clenched, sending small electric impulses through my body. Breathe, the little voice screamed. Get a hold of yourself. My face burned with heat and chills ran down my spine.

Countless times had I imagined actually standing face to face with him. Hell, I had pictured it in a million different ways, but never had I imagined he would have this impact on me. I couldn’t even remember how to breathe, and the tiniest movement from him made my belly go wild.

My ears started to ring and a white fog crept into my mind. Breathe, the little voice tried to call to me from somewhere far away.

I averted my eyes, sucking in a few deep breaths and the fog lifted.

He cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure if he hadn’t noticed I had almost passed out at his feet, or if he simply decided to pretend it hadn’t happened. I blushed for a whole new reason this time. Stupid, the voice muttered. Now what will he think of you? I cringed, swallowing down an imagined lump in my throat.

“Uh, Brianna?” His voice was hesitant, and I looked back at him, this time careful to avoid eye contact. He played with a loose thread of his jeans and I shivered and burned under his scrutiny.

He seemed to think, chewing the corner of his lower lip while furrowing his eyebrows. Breath once again caught in my throat. How many times had I drooled over his pictures, imagining how it would feel to kiss those lips.

“Just gonna stand there?”

His husky voice made my heart skip a beat, and I sucked in a sharp breath from the sudden feeling, then flashed him a nervous smile.

“I uh—” The words caught in my throat as I tried to