Forever His

Chapter Six

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Least to say the drive was. . . awkward; every move I made Jeremy and I could both hear. The sound of my pants rubbing on the leather of my seat made a flush spread across my cheeks. The whole situation was uncomfortable. If you really wanted to, you could drop a pin and listen to it fall-and here it land on the carpeted floor-and it was embarrassing. The tension was horrible.

The sexual tension.

I barely moved. The heat in my stomach and chest made it hard for me to even breathe. My insides were on fire and the burning in my lower stomach made me want to scream of frustration when I looked at Jeremy. Still, all these feelings were so new to me and they were as foreign as they could get. The scent of him was still ingrained in my mind, and the feel of his eyes on me was imprinted in my memory.

It had taken us twenty minutes to get back in to town. Why he wasn't letting me go home I had no idea. If he thought that he needed to keep an eye on me, he was crazy. I wasn't his responsibility, although half of me wanted to be then half of me didn't.

I was stuck wanting a guy that I couldn't have. The first freaking guy I wanted, I couldn't have. Because he was family, he was older than me, and half of me wasn't ready yet. And I had no idea if he felt the same.

We pulled in front of a street shop in the apex of town and it had a printer paper on the front door that said 'Jeremy's Studio: Blown to Perfection' in purple and black sharpie. I almost laughed. And I did as Jeremy unlocked the front store door. (Well, it was sort of a snicker, but I still found the name quite entertaining.) And the fact he had no sign yet made it funnier. Only Jeremy wasn't as amused as I was. He gave me a stern look that well. . .looked pretty ticked off, and that said, 'Shut up'.

We quietly made our way to the front of the store and he quickly let us in. As soon as I stepped inside I was met with the sent of paint and sawdust. The store was an open space with three counters: two for the side walls and one for the back wall. The walls were a light purple and the counters were black. I actually liked the color scheme. I saw no glass pieces in the windows or on the counters, then again the opening date was in three weeks.

Behind me Jeremy locked the door and ushered me to the winding iron stairs that was to the back of the shop, in a separate room. The stairs creaked as we went up and the black railing was cold to the touch. The chilly feeling spread through my body and settled in my spine.

"So," I said as I immediately started exploring his loft. As soon as I was off the stairs I was met with an open room that had two leather couches and a small flat screen TV facing the couches in front of three massive windows. Off to the right side there was a kitchen that had a small island and four stools around it. To the left was a hallway that had three doors, which probably lead to a bedroom and bathroom.

I wanted him to say something-anything- so the tense and awkward atmosphere would dissipate and become nonexistent, but he didn't utter a single word. Nothing. And I made me want to claw his eyes out, and I as sure as heck wasn't gonna start that conversation.

Jeremy went to the kitchen and got into the freezer and came back with a bag of pees. I looked at him questioningly and he touched the corner of his cheek. My hand immediately went to my cheek and I felt swollen, raw skin. I pulled my hand away in shock for I didn't know it would still be hurting.