Fall Guy (A Youngblood Book) by Reinhardt, Liz (knowledgeable books to read TXT) 📕

I text Brenna, and she texts back such an excited stream of questions, I wind up just tapping a message to let her know that I'm having so much fun, I'll have to fill her in later.

Brenna has been rooting for my happiness, however it comes, like a frantically hopeful cheerleader, and dishing all the depressing details of my latest social failure just feels like too much effort at this point.

I do my best to switch my brain off as the dark rolls in and the house goes utterly, depressingly silent. I've gone blank. Erased. Empty. It's the only way I can be if I want to survive without sobbing over Winch and all the possibility the two of us had, now lost for good.

But no matter how hard I work to shut my brain down, my body aches for him in the dark. I crave comfort that goes way beyond warm baths, soft pajamas, creamy chocolate truffles; those are shallow, nonessentials. I need his touch, his hold, his love.

I know I can't have it. I know the need will have to eventually melt away. But tonight, in the dark of my room, I'm not convinced I can live without it.

And then I hear the hiccupping roar of an engine. It's Saturday night. It could be any stupid showoff on a date. There's a way bigger chance it isn't him than that it is.

A yell shatters the quiet of the night.

"Evan!"

I sit up, shocked at the way that voice has morphed around my name. Because it's him. It's Winch. But not the way I know him. I get up and run to the balcony outside my room, ignoring the slight bite of a chill on my skin. It takes my eyes a long few seconds to adjust in the dark, but when I finally see Winch, shock seizes through me.

"Winch?" I ask, not sure the loping, staggering figure below could be my cool, collected, always-in-control Winch.

"Evan!" He yells like he didn't hear my voice. He looks up and squints, then trips over a potted plant. The ceramic pot crashes and I hear the heavy thud of his body crashing into the dirt and his guttural curses. "Evan!"

His yell is impatient this time, and I raise my voice, glancing nervously at my neighbor's house. He's going to wake the entire damn street up.

Even as I think this, a thick, sweet happiness swirls through me. I have no idea why he's here or what he wants, but I'm completely thrilled that he's down there, waiting for me.

"Wait, Winch! I'm coming down."

"No!" he protests, but I ignore him and fly down the hall and stairs, through the kitchen and out the back door that leads me into the gardens and his arms.

He folds me in his embrace, but staggers back and has to lean on me to keep from falling over.

"Evan." His voice, always so strong and calm, comes out like a whimper around my name. "I've missed you so damn much. You don't know...you have no idea how much I wanted you."

His mouth is nuzzling near my ear, and I turn my face so our lips can meet, momentarily shocked by the stench of liquor on him. One kiss has my head spinning, and I feel like I downed a viciously hot shot of whatever he drank.

I ignore his drunkenness and kiss harder, balling my hands in the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling his hard, lean body close to mine. He wraps his arms around me and kisses back like this kiss is his final request. His hands roam everywhere, pressing against my skin and stopping to squeeze while he murmurs sexy pleas in another language.

"I want you. Now," I plead, using the full force of my willpower to pull away from him and drag him behind me.

He stumbles along, trying to talk to me, trying to talk me out of this, maybe, so I refuse to slow down or listen. I just power forward, into my room and onto my bed, pulling him down next to me. He smells sooty and sweaty, nothing like the clean and polished Winch I'm used to.

"I love you," I insist, hoping to throw up the one roadblock he won't dare smash through.

It works. My words still the protest that I know was on his lips.

"I love you," he says instead of whatever he was going to say to argue us out of this tangled, sweet perfection. "I have to tell you something...I have to tell you--"

I clamp a hand over his mouth, his lips and breath warm and ready on my palm. "I want to be with you. Now."

I slide my hand down below the waistband of his pants, skim along the elastic of his boxer briefs and listen to the hiss of his breath as I cup him, smooth, hot, and hard, against the palm of my hand.

"I love you, and I don't really care what you're going to say. I want you. I want you so badly, Winch. Don't say no to me. You've said no to a million things I've asked. Not this time, okay?"

"You're gonna regret this." He leans his forehead on mine and squeezes his hands at my hips hard. "Please, hear me out, Evan. Please let me tell you what--"

"Stop." I kiss his lips, hungry for the taste of him, the taste I can never get enough of. I rip my mouth away. "I'm not an idiot. Whatever you're going to tell me, I know it will be bad, okay? Maybe it will even be bad enough to end everything permanently. But before I hear it, I want this. I want right now, and when it's done, I swear to you, I will never regret being with you right now. Please. Please, Winch. I love you."

He groans and blows a long, hard breath against my neck, then swallows so his throat goes tight and nods.

"I love you, too. Never doubt that, okay? Never doubt that."

Then, in