Page 138 - My FlipBook

L IS A J. L A W R E N C E

against his body. She wormed out from beneath him, off the
blanket and into the snow. Gasped for air. Dylan sat up on his
elbows, unbalanced.
“What? What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” Her face burned. “I’m sorry. I just…
can’t…right now.”
He pulled himself to sitting and faced her, a gray form in
the dark. “I don’t understand. Was I hurting you?”

“No.” Not exactly. Just pressing the life from her.
“It’s just…you seemed to want it last weekend.”
“Did I?” It was a relief to speak the words out loud.
She needed to know. What did I say? What did I do? Can
you tell me?
“Whoa. What are you implying?”
“Nothing. I just don’t…know…what happened.” ADVANCE READING COPY

“You’re saying you didn’t want to sleep with me?” Anger
hardened his voice—the first time she’d heard it there.
She tried to say no, then yes, but nothing fit. All the words
jumbled in her head and wouldn’t line up in a sentence.
“I get it.” He jumped to his feet and strode to the edge
of the garage.
Greta scrambled after him, buttoning her jeans. “Wait!
Where are you going?”
He covered the shed roof in one step and hopped to the

ground. Greta slipped on the tinny slope and caught herself.
She lowered to a squat and jumped, landing hard on her
right ankle.
“Dylan!”

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