Free A Penny's Worth (The Cephas Bourdon Series) by A.M. Hooper Page B

left hand, he stared into my green eyes. I observed his face, running my small fingers along the crease in his forehead. I wanted to thank him somehow for saving me last night (at least, that’s what the justification I used to explain away my growing desire to feel Cephas’ lips against mine). His eyes softened as I lifted my face to his. I could taste his minty breath mingling with mine. My eyes partially closed and I leaned in toward his face. My mouth stopped against his cheek: he had turned his head! Was he rejecting me? I took a step back, though he held me from moving any farther. The left corner of his mouth was smirking. I struggled in between his arms, but I was no match for his stubborn strength.
    “Let me go, Cephas,” I demanded. He didn't release me; he just kept smiling. “I can't believe you would do that!”
    “Why not? I thought you would have had me pretty figured out by now.”
    “What do you mean?” He turned me around, twisting my arms in front of me and pulling my back against his chest. His head lowered near my ear.
    “I'll kiss you when I'm good and ready,” he whispered. A low laugh emerged from his throat. I turned around in his arms and shoved him, slightly hurt at his moc king attitude toward kissing me. T his was all a joke to him!
    “You're such a jerk,” I laughed, trying to clear the hurt from my voice. He grabbed my hand and kissed it softly, his eyes holding mine. “Forgive me?” he asked quietly, smirking again. I rolled my eyes and he released me. Laying my backpack strap over my shoulder, he allowed his hand to slowly travel the length of my arm, finally clasping my hand. Attempting not to shudder visibly at his insinuating touch, I looked away.
    “Let's get you home,” he muttered.
    We walked to my house, mostly in silence, just listening to the night. Dusk was coming on. The sun was low on the horizon, beckoning the darkness to catch it. The sky was clear tonight, though the stars were always visible in Woods Bay. A few dotted the sky, their light not yet overpowering the setting sun. We walked across the gravel street to my driveway.
    "You try to stay out of trouble, alright,” he advised, tweaking my nose before walking back the way we came. As he was walking under the pool of light emitted from the street lamp, he turned back toward me, as if a thought occurred to him, but he simply waved, that ever present smile flashing in the dim light. I waved back and watched him pick his feet up into a light jog. I walked up the cem ent driveway to the front porch. D ecorative iron rail lined the large patio, guarding four lawn chairs and a small table. Turning the key, I pushed the door open and flipped on a light. I made my way upstairs to my bedroom, feeling the weight of my bag with each step. Why did I always bring so many books home?
    Flipping on the light in my bathroom, I quickly brushed my teeth, rinsing my mouth in the sink. I put my pink toothbrush in its holder, then looked at myself in the mirror. Wiping some smudged mascara from beneath my eyes, I splashed some water on my face. I was patting my skin dry with a hand towel when I thought I heard a noise. Our house seemed eerie at night, especially when my dad wasn't home. The rest of the lights were off in the house. I started when I heard a tap on the window. Standing perfectly still, I waited a moment. Another pebble hit the window. Oh, great. I walked over to the old storm window and pushed it open. Chase stood on the lawn beneath me, looking up at me with the saddest face he could muster.
    "Emma, I'm sorry," he began. "Can I come up?"
    I scowled at him and shouted in a whisper, before slamming the window shut, "If you want to. You know it's always unlocked anyway. You didn't have to be dramatic!" I turned away from the window and hurriedly put on my sweater. I flipped on the hall light and creaked down the stairs. Chase was standing at the bottom, the same, ridiculous look plastered on his face. Funny — I