The Love I Found

Chapter 9

We move through the neighbourhood at a steady pace. I don't know much about the town's layout, but I do know that if we continue on the main stretch we will eventually reach the bus station. So when Cal tugs on my arm to turn left down Bronson Street, my pace slows.

"We gotta make a pit stop. It won't take long," he explains as he gives my arm another tug.

I don't think stopping is a good idea. The farther we get from the Scotts' home the better I feel, but I know I won't be able to fully catch my breath until we are on a bus, getting as far away from here as possible. But Cal seems determined, and this is his plan. So I follow him obediently, once again lengthening my stride to keep up.

He stops between two houses. The property line between the two lots is marked with an eight-foot, wooden fence and a thick, long hedge. We are on the nice side of town now, where there's not a shabby chain link fence between properties in sight.

Cal glances around in every direction before stepping between the fence and the row of bushes. He pulls me along behind him.

"Watch your hair, angel-face," he warns as he grips a stray branch and bends it out of the way. The back of the hedge isn't as meticulously trimmed as the visible front.

I reach behind my neck to grip my hair and bring it over my shoulder, hoping that will keep it from getting snagged in the stray branches as I follow behind Cal in the cramped pathway—If you can call the three-foot spacing between a fence and a hedge a pathway.

When we reach the end of the greenery, the fence cuts in front of us to run horizontally across the back of the property line, separating it from the house that backs it. Cal stops walking and releases my hand to take off the backpack. As he sets it on the ground, he turns around to look at me with a grimace.

I stare back at him, but when he doesn't speak, my eyes move behind him to the wooden, eight-foot-high fence.

He can't possibly...

"Cal, you don't expect us to jump this thing, do you?" I ask in a strained whisper.

"Not us." His voice is low and quiet, but the message behind it is loud and clear. He is planning to go over the fence without me.

"Cal..." I hate the unsure whine in my voice as I take a step toward him and grab his hand again. I need to convince him to stay with me.

He starts to pull his hand away, so I tighten my grip and take another step, placing myself directly in front of him so that I have to tilt my head back to look up at his face.

He brings his chin down to meet my eyes, but the bill of his cap casts a shadow over the upper half of his face, making it difficult to read his expression.

I lick my lips before trying to speak again. "Please, don't leave me behind. I bet you could boost me over the fence. I don't weigh that much, and you're—"

What is he doing?

His face tilts even closer to mine, and the hand which is not tightly in my grasp has found a spot to rest on my hip.

I take a deep breath and try again. "And you're—"

My sentence comes to a halt when his hand moves from my hip to snake around my waist. Suddenly, the small space I had left between us disappears, and he is holding me against his body. I release his hand while I gasp in surprise, but the small sound is cut short when his lips press against mine.

I can't believe this is happening, but it feels too real, too intense, to be a mere daydream.

My eyes lock with Cal's. I want to stare into these dark blue eyes until I can read exactly what is going through his mind. As of now, I'm clueless.