Page 95 of Jesse's Girl

Jesse scoffs. “But the movies are never as good as the books. They never do the story justice.”

I shake my head. “Such a snob.”

“I’m not a snob! It’s just not the same.” He quirks an eyebrow. “Look, what if I read it to you?”

“Like a bedtime story?” I give him a blank stare.

“No, like an audiobook.”

“Are you gonna start at the beginning? Or just?—”

“Just the bit I’m reading now. Like a teaser. You got the gist, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

An almost boyish delight flashes in his eyes. “Okay, buckle up.”

“Hold on a sec,” I say. I jump up to get my sketchbook and pencils and settle onto the floor to draw. At Jesse’s curious expression, I explain, “It helps me concentrate if I have something to do with my hands.”

“Why are you sitting so far away?”

I throw him a knowing glance. “That’s also to help me concentrate.”

He chuckles, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees, and the ropey muscles of his forearms shift as he adjusts his grip on the book.

Damn. The floor was the right choice.

As he reads, I doodle without thinking too much, sketching out the rough outline of a buttercup. I’ve been on a flower kick since making that card for Jesse’s mom weeks ago, and I guess those Princess Bride jokes have wormed themselves into my brain.

Jesse’s deep voice is soothing, and the story quickly draws me in. At some point, I drift back to the couch, settling my head on his thigh and propping my sketchbook on my raised knees.

He plays absently with my hair as he continues to read.

“Max flipped the light switch. Nothing. The power to the building had been cut.

‘I think he’s gone,’ Liza whispered. Then, when Max’s hand found hers in the darkness, she gasped. ‘What are you doing?’”

The rhythmic touch of Jesse’s fingers lulls me into a sleepy trance. I set down my sketchbook and close my eyes. His hand shifts, brushing soft strokes over my neck with his thumb.

“Adrenaline still coursing through his veins from the chase, Max didn’t think twice. He pulled her against—” He stops. “Wait a sec…”

I open my eyes and sit up, twisting around to face him. “What? Why’d you stop?”

He quickly scans the open pages and a flush spreads over his neck. He glances at me, then turns back to the book.

I laugh. “Jesse!”

He clears his throat. “I just… I didn’t realize it was that kind of book.”

“What kind of book?” I ask with a smirk. I know exactly what kind of book. I fake an affected gasp. “Are you… embarrassed? Honestly, after everything we did last night? Everything you said to me?”

“No!” he insists.

“But you’re blushing.”

His face falls. “I’m not blushing.”

“Then keep reading,” I challenge.