Fearless by Abby Brooks (best books for 8th graders .txt) 📗

I reached for Alex’s hand to help him out of the chair. His fingers threaded with mine and he pulled me into his lap, one hand sliding into my hair to angle my face, then his lips whispered against my own. My breath caught as the faintest trace of a kiss set my body ablaze. He tilted his head, delicate, gentle, as if appraising the perfect angle. A master crafter planning a masterpiece.

I melted into him, meeting him kiss for kiss, breath for breath. My hands traveled the hard planes of his back and shoulders, and I tasted whiskey on his tongue…

…whiskey on his tongue…

“Alex…” I pressed my forehead to his. “You’re drunk.”

“I am.” He licked his lips. “But that doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes enough. I don’t want to be something you regret in the morning.”

“I won’t regret you.”

I closed my eyes. “You might.”

“I won’t.”

With a heavy sigh, I pulled myself out of his lap. “We’ll see how you feel about that in the morning.”

Alex stared up at me for one long second, then nodded and stood. “Do you see what you do to me?” He took my hand and placed it on the erection straining against his sweats. He groaned at the contact, eyes sliding closed, before releasing my hand. I let it drop and backed away, despite the urge to step into his arms and forget everything but him, us.

“That’s very impressive.”

“You think so?” His grin was so sexy I didn’t think I’d ever recover.

“I know so.” I placed both hands on his shoulders and spun him around. “Now, let’s get you and your impressive man-parts home and into bed.”

Alex kept turning until he was facing me again. “I’d like to get you into my bed. So would my man-parts.”

“I’m sure that’s true, but you’ll thank me for this in the morning.” I spun him back around to face the door. “Are you safe to get home? Or do you need an escort?”

He turned over his shoulder and started to speak. The gleam in his eyes warned me he wasn’t going to give up as easily as I’d like.

“Safe to get yourself home it is,” I said with a laugh.

His face fell. “Fine.” His shoulders slumped. “Are you sure you forgive me?”

“For impersonating a ghost or the sexual harassment I just handled brilliantly?”

“Both.”

“We can talk about that in the morning, Alex. Now, get yourself home and into bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I closed the door and leaned my head against the wood, trying to make sense of everything that happened and how I felt about it. As I turned to head back to bed, Alex’s poem caught my eyes. I swept the paper off the table and read.

Dark and dull

A thousand shades of gray

Fading away

And then…

You.

Stumbling into my life

Bare

Open

Bright and vibrant

You.

I am better

I am warm

Because you…

You

Are a thousand shades of

Autumn leaves and rushing waves

You

Are so beautiful the sun blushes

You

Are comfort and joy

You

You

You

I am better

I am warm

I am

Yours.

Chapter Twenty-One

Alex

Evie shifted and the entire bed bounced with the movement. I groaned as my eyes blinked open, then smiled as she nuzzled into my back. Honestly, who hadn’t seen this coming? Greta Macmillan saw it. Izzy saw it. The whole town knew Evie and I would end up together sooner or later.

“Good morning, beautiful.” I rolled over and threw an arm around…

…Morgan.

He rewarded me with a face-sized lick, and I sat up too fast for my own good. My head pounded as the real events of last night came back to me. I did not woo Evie into my bed with my genius poem like I thought I would. I did, however, get caught breaking into her house. In my sweats. In the middle of the night. To deliver socks.

I also made many moves.

Many, embarrassing, ineffective, sexually aggressive moves. I dropped my head into my hand, then pounded my forehead for good measure. Evie was surely still asleep, but as soon as she woke, I needed to grovel for forgiveness.

“Damn these selfish Prescott genes!” If I didn’t take after my dad so much, none of this would have even been an issue. I’d have politely returned the key to Sugar Maple Hill when Evie moved in and done things the normal way instead of following every stupid whim that came to my head because it was easier for me.

Morgan whined his agreement and I shuffled into the bathroom, popping some ibuprofen before making my way downstairs in search of coffee. As the dog clicked across the floor, my bare feet slapped the kitchen tile, following the bits of leaves and debris tracing a path from the front door to the fridge. The doorbell rang as I popped a pod into the Keurig and checked the time. Too early for anyone to be visiting. I shuffled to answer, peeking through the window to find Evie on my porch, a coffee steaming in each hand and a bag slung over her shoulder. She had on a coat and a scarf, a beanie pulled down low with her hair braided and slung over one shoulder.

Huh.

She never came to my house and rarely got out of bed before seven.

I opened the door, shivering as the air hit my chest.

“Morning, Casanova.” She stepped inside and handed me a cup of coffee. “Close the door before your nipples fall off.”

“Bless you, child.” I lifted the steaming drink to my mouth, then paused, ready to start groveling. “Look, about last night…”

She held out her hand to ward off my words as Morgan wagged his tail in greeting. She scratched his ears and avoided eye contact with me. “There’s so much to unpack about last night that I don’t even know where to start.”

“I know where to start. With an apology. I had no right to use that key after you moved into Sugar Maple Hill. None. It was wrong, and creepy, and I should have been up front about everything from the get-go.”

Evie finally met my gaze. “It was wrong and it was creepy and