Free Blowback by Stephanie Summers Page A

cleaned the blood, but I still thought he was brave. A nasty gash like that would have had me screaming bloody murder before the disinfecting stage.
    “I don’t think you need stitches. It doesn’t look too deep.”
    “Told you it was just a scratch.”
    “Yeah, except scratches don’t bleed that much. What happened?” I asked as I placed some liquid bandage over the wound.
    He made a hissing noise as he sucked air sharply into his lungs when the liquid touched his broken skin. “Nothing. I fell down.”
    I looked at him like he was crazy, knowing he was hiding something from me. The more resistant he was to spill his guts, the more I suspected something huge had happened. But I wouldn’t push him. He had to tell me because he wanted to. Not because I forced him into it.
    “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said.
    “Okay,” I said and reached for the washcloth so I could start cleaning everything up.
    He sat up quicker than I expected him to be able to with his injury. His hand grazed my cheek. The next thing I knew, his gloriously warm lips melded to mine. Every bit as exquisite as I’d imagined. I knew then that I’d never get enough of him and the delicious way he tasted. But what came out of his mouth when he pulled away floored me.
    “I love you, Evie,” he said, peering deep into my eyes.
    He had me in a trance, but I managed to blurt out the worst possible thing I could.
    “But… we aren’t even dating.” Not the response I’d imagined having the billion times I dreamt of him telling me he loved me. I wanted to believe I loved him, too, but it was all happening way too fast for me to process.
    “I know, but I came over to ask you if you’d be my girlfriend. I just got held up,” he said, glancing down at his wound.
    “You’re serious? You want me to be your girlfriend?”
    “Yeah. I mean, if you want to,” he said, tugging briefly at his earlobe, an act he often did when we spoke about things that made him nervous. “Everyone thinks we are anyway.”
    “Oh, great. You only asked me because of that?” I asked. My heart started to ache. I wanted to be with him, but not because he thought he was expected to date me.
    “That’s not why.”
    “Why then? Tell me what it is about me that makes you say you love me.”
    “I can’t. Just know that I do.”
    “Why not? If you can’t tell me, my answer is no.”
    “Fine, I’ll go.”
    “Wait,” I said. He couldn’t go. I wasn’t ready for him to leave. “Please, don’t… You have to understand something about me. I don’t know how to do this kind of stuff. I’ve never…” I trailed off.
    “You’ve never what?”
    “Never anything. No boyfriend, never been kissed, never anything. I haven’t even held hands with anyone but Sophie when we watch scary movies.”
    “Well, I’m pretty sure I just kissed you, so you can mark that off your never list. And as far as I’m concerned, I’m your boyfriend, so that’s another one down,” he said, taking my hand gently in his. “And your parents aren’t home, so I’m thinking we could knock that last one off your list depending on when they’re getting back.” His eyebrows rose as the corner of his mouth turned up.
    “Jet,” I whispered. “I mean, we’ve been dating for less than two minutes. That’s entirely too fast for me… I mean, I want to, I’m just not quite there yet.”
    “I get it.”
    “Have you? You know.”
    “Yeah,” he said, looking away from me like he was embarrassed. If he were embarrassed, I was absolutely mortified by the thought. “No one you know.”
    * * *
    People giggling in the hallway outside my hotel room caught my attention, pulling me out of my stroll down memory lane. One of them was definitely Sophie, and I sprang from the bed and sprinted over to open the door. It’d been far too long since I’d seen her. It was an odd thing to go from seeing your best friend nearly every day to only seeing them every couple of months. We texted