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

a hand through his hair. I stared as the movement flexed his muscles, trying to ignore the clenching of my belly.

“It’s not what you think.” His voice was just a whisper.

“Then what!”

“I—I can't.”

The sorrow in his voice cut through my anger. He had issues—big ones, but he wasn't the asshole I'd accused him of being.

“Talk to me.” I moved closer again, putting a hand on his arm. “Tell me what's going on. You don't have to face everything alone.”

He sighed, but angled his body to face me.

I smiled at his confused expression. “It’s okay. I’m not one of those women, remember?”

He gave me a weak smile, hanging his head. “That's the problem,” he whispered. “You’re different. You’re—” He cut himself off. “You make me—”

I took his hand, urging him on softly. “What?”

The look on his face shifted. He clenched his jaw, eyes turning blank.

“Forget it.”

“Johnny.”

He shook his head. A silent plea to make me back off.

“I ain’t gonna sell you out to the press; I don't give a rat’s ass about such things. I mean it. Trust me.”

The look in his eyes softened. “That's not it.”

“Then what?”

“Just leave it!” he snapped, and I flinched. “Just—” He moved away from my touch. “Leave me alone.”

Tears fell from my eyes as he got up. I couldn't even enjoy the sight of his naked body as he searched for his jeans. Instead, I closed my eyes, and the sound of the door opening and closing felt like a slap to my face.

∞∞∞

I found him on the porch, shivering in the cold wind, wearing nothing but those old jeans. Moving to stand next to him, I let my eyes drift to the sea.

After what felt like forever, he spoke, but the whisper flew away with the wind before I could catch it. I turned to him waiting for him to repeat it.

He looked at me, then sighed.

“Why aren't you running the fuck away from me?”

I wasn't sure whether he was annoyed—or confused, and even though it was an excellent question, I didn't have the answer. In fact, I was wondering the same thing. It was what I did. Ran. Every time it was about to get serious; every time there was trouble; every time I’d risk feeling something. I’d been repeating the pattern ever since the idiot Adam made me fall for his lies and broke my heart. I’d come to one conclusion: relationships weren’t worth the trouble. I was better off without them. But with Johnny, I wasn't running. I didn't even want to. And I felt so much more than I'd ever felt with anyone before him. It didn't make sense. I didn't understand, but maybe I didn't have to. Johnny had pushed past all the barriers and broken through my defense. I should be scared, and maybe if I started to think—I was. But I didn't let myself see further than this moment. Johnny was the first man I'd ever felt like staying with, through the bad, the deep, and the good. He was the first one I wanted to truly be with. And he was also the only one who I was certain, I could not be with. A future with Johnny was impossible. Maybe that was why I wasn’t afraid. I didn't have to fear what I knew would never come to be.

“I don't want to”

He scoffed. “You should.”

“Why?”

He shook his head, and I wanted to scream. One more unanswered question. It seemed to be all I got from him. If he wanted to shut me out, why hadn't he done it from the start? Why couldn't he make up his mind about what he wanted from me?

“Fine!” I snapped. “Don't tell me. And don't come near me again until you—”

The look on his face cut me off, and for a moment I was stunned. The unmistakable shine in his eyes and the obvious struggle to keep the emotions away, caught me off guard and softened my anger.

“Please,” I said. “I don't want to give up on you, but I can’t—” My voice broke. I took a deep breath and tried again. “At least let me be your friend. It's obvious you need one.”

For a long time, he just stared at me. That well-known spark came back as his eyes locked on mine. It took my breath away, weakened my knees and made my heart gallop.

“No.”  He tore his gaze away, breaking the magic. “I can’t. Just leave me alone.”

“Johnny.”

“No.”

“I don't believe you.”

He threw out his hands. “Fuck, Bree.” One hand ran through his hair and his jaw trembled with tension as he looked down at his feet. When his gaze finally met mine, his face was a mask of coldness. I wanted to scream, to shake him. Hell, even slapping him seemed like a good idea.

I settled with a controlled, “Don't do this to yourself. Don't shut everyone out.” I had to fight to keep my voice down. “Don't shut me out.”

“I don't need you,” he scoffed. “Get the fuck out of my face.”

His words made me want to shrink away and lick my wounds, but no matter how much it hurt my ego, and my heart, I wasn't ready to give up.

“I care about you, why is that so bad?”

“I don't care about you,” he shot back. “Is that so bloody hard to get? Take a fucking hint.”

I gasped. I couldn't help it. A few hours ago, he’d been wrapped in my arms, crying out my name. How could something so good have turned so bad in so little time?

Listen to him, the little voice said. He's right.Who are you to him anyway? I wanted to cry. How many times does he have to say it? It went on. Tears sprung to my eyes. I looked up at him and a few rolled over my cheeks. He looked away.

I reached out, but he moved away before my hand landed on his arm.

“Just fucking don’t.”

For a few seconds, I hesitated, torn between sparing myself the heartache by doing