Free Freeing Destiny (Fate #2) by Faith Andrews Page B

game—honest to God—but I could see how it might look that way. Unlike the way I’d felt in the beginning of all this, I didn’t want him to give up on me because my actions were yo-yoing all over the place.
    I wanted him to pursue me while we still had time.
    Taking my hand in his, he placed one finger under my chin and turned my face in his direction. “What I think is that you’re a phenomenal kisser. And I plan on doing a lot more of that tonight and all the other nights until you leave—maybe even some of that kissing will convince you not to go. But in the meantime, we’re going back to my place, we’re going to order whatever you want to eat, then relax and watch a movie or whatever makes you comfortable. As long as we get to spend time together . . . there’s no rush.”
    The saddened look in his eyes told me that last part was a lie. It was painfully obvious that we were running out of time. I hated it. There were so many things I wished for in that moment—the ability to freeze the clock, or travel back in time, or to have an endless do-over of the last few days with Jack on a repeat reel. It felt like some odd and cruel twist of fate. What kind of messed up destiny would throw Jack in my path now ?
    Forgoing all the bitter thoughts playing out in my frazzled brain, I nodded in answer to Jack’s questioning eyes. “Okay. I like the sound of that.”
    It was time to abandon plans and worries and strategies. The only thing I planned on doing from here on out was whatever I felt was right—in the moment. I wanted to kiss him again, and if kissing led to more then I was ready for that, too. Jack was right when he said all that mattered was that we spent the time we did have together. The memories would be worth it, even if it meant hurting in their absence.

    “This movie sucks, dude.” I was trying not to yawn through Jack’s movie suggestion—his all-time favorite.
    His jaw dropped, mid-chew, flashing a mouthful of pizza. Assessing my disgusted expression, he snapped his mouth shut, swallowed and then threw a crumpled up napkin at my forehead. The paper connected before I could deflect it, but I didn’t flinch.
    “Are you joking? What kind of Italian doesn’t like The Godfather ? I’m appalled by you—you, you . . . imposter.”
    I couldn’t contain my laughter because Jack was truly shocked by my disrespect for the classic mobster film. What could I say? It wasn’t my thing. I was a romantic and there was nothing romantic about a dead horse’s head in someone’s bed.
    Raising my hands in defense, I giggled. “Sorry, babe. I’m just being honest.”
    “Say that again.” His long lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he blinked his eyes. His smile grew wide as he waited for me to speak.
    “Say what again? That I’m just being honest or that the movie sucks?” What was the big deal? I was confused.
    “No, not that.” His eyes remained closed as he shook his head. “Call me babe again. It sounds so delicious coming from your mouth.”
    Oh. That. We’d managed to keep things platonic since settling in at his apartment. He showed me around, we chatted about his impressive music collection—all LPs that he listened to on an old record player—which added to his mystique—and we’d ordered a pizza. It was all very casual, comfortable, easy. Up until now.
    Now, all I could think about was the way he kissed me in his car. The way it felt to be held by him, even if only in the confines of the small space. I wanted his lips on mine again, his hands caressing my skin, but I worried that without any boundaries I’d let it go further than I was ready for. I didn’t want to lead him on, but I didn’t necessarily want things to stay PG. This was one of those times I was supposed to allow my heart to think for my head.
    I started with giving in to Jack’s request, because seeing him so excited by that one little word made my heart happy. “You like it when I call you babe? It’s so