Johnny & I : The Island by Daria Paus (best novels to read txt) 📗

him, he didn't seem to be feeling that great, which should’ve been obvious had I used my mind.

"Let's get inside."

∞∞∞

For the second time, I found myself wet and shivering in Johnny's bathroom. Only this time, I wasn't the one getting out of my clothes. If the situation had been somewhat normal, I would’ve died right then and there. But this was far from normal, so watching Johnny undress didn't do that much to me.

All I could focus on was the blood still trickling from that awful wound. I stood in the middle of the room, staring at him as he wriggled out of a soaked shirt. The stiff movements and the low hisses coming from him made me suspect that his head wasn't the only thing he'd hurt.

Keeping my eyes on his face, I moved closer, placing a cold hand on his shoulder, making him turn. Somehow, I wasn't surprised, but the sight still made me wince. I’d seen the rocks, but not until now did I realize how much damage they could do. The right side of his upper back was scraped and torn, and the sight of the sand and blood mixed mess made me cringe.

"I need to clean this up," I said, letting my hand slide across the healthy part of his back. "You're so cold.” My voice was barely a whisper.

Standing close to him, my senses were once again hijacked and all thoughts of reality faded quickly. My fingers trembled as they slid over his shoulder, down his biceps and back up again. Touching him made me forget about blood and wounds, and everything else for that matter. His skin was smooth under my fingertips. Little drops of water fell from his hair, leaving glistening traces on golden, tanned skin. The little drops seemed to be whispering to me, begging me to kiss them away. Without thinking I inched closer, just wanting to . . .

"Bree?"

His voice startled me back to reality and I snatched my hand away.

“Sorry," I gasped.

"I'll be fine," he said. “Let me get you something to wear, you're as cold as ice." Before I could protest, he left the room, trailing drops of water in his wake. It didn't take long until he came back, carrying a black T-shirt, sweatpants—and a bottle of whiskey. My eyes widened as he opened it and drank straight from the bottle.

"Here.” He handed the clothes to me. “You can fix me up later.”

"But you're . . ."

He shook his head, taking another swig from the bottle, then turning to leave.

"Wait!” My voice stopped him. "Where are you goin'?"

"Just—"

"But you're—" I gestured to his damaged skin.

He shook his head as if it was nothing, and irritation once again flared up. Why was he being so stubborn? It was clearly something. I was sure it took him all his strength to act unaffected. It didn't surprise me that he was good at pretending, but would it kill him to admit that he was hurting? How could he not be concerned about his health—or his life. Hell, if it had been me, I would’ve freaked out long ago.

"Just drop the act!” The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I mentally kicked myself. Really? My inner voice asked. Can you be any more embarrassin’? 

He raised a blood-smeared eyebrow in question.

My cheeks burned. "Just—" I shifted my weight, trying to look at anything but him. "It's just me here, it's not like you have to pretend to be so cool or somethin'."

He chuckled. "Ok."

"Ok?" I echoed.

"Fix the bloody wounds already," he said, handing the bottle over to me. I shook my head in bewilderment, then took it, knowing before asking, that the liquor was the only antiseptic available.

I muttered under my breath, “You’ve got to be jokin’.”

6

Baby can I hold you?

The heat from the fireplace dried my skin and softened my stiff muscles, and once I’d started to relax and relief filled my senses, I swore to never go near the sea again. Every time I did, something horrible happened.

My eyelids drooped as I listened to the crackling wood, and the howling wind outside seemed a little less frightening once we were a safe distance from it.

Sitting there, I couldn't help but let myself get lost in the romantic fantasy which my mind all too willingly provided me with. My mouth twisted into a smile and a soft sigh slipped through my lips.

Then I realized the stupidity of what I was doing and the smile vanished. I didn't really know Johnny, even though it felt like that sometimes; and Johnny didn't know me. Hell, he’d probably drag me down to his boat and ship me off to the mainland as soon as the storm was over. I couldn't blame him, considering my behavior. I sighed, then shrugged it off. There was no need to worry about that now. My motto had always been 'live in the moment' and that was exactly what I planned on doing.

“If you wanna sleep . . ." Johnny trailed off, letting the silence fill the room, before continuing. "You don't have to stay up because of me.”

I shook my head. “I’m good.”

He gave me a small smile in return, and I melted right then and there. He was gorgeous, but when he smiled he was breathtaking. I couldn't stop staring.

“People must be worrying about you?” He made it sound like a question instead of a statement, and I nodded.

“There’s a phone on the boat, but—" He cut himself off, as if he didn't want to think of the boat at the moment. I couldn’t blame him. No matter how badly I wanted to call my family and tell them I was alive and well, it had to wait until the storm subsided.

“What’s your family like?”

His question surprised me, and I thought about how to describe them all.

“My mom is like me; she likes to know everythin’—doesn’t like surprises. My stepdad is the opposite. I can’t really see how