Part 36 (1/2)

”I came back alone,” Dean says. ”Aspen wasn't where I wanted to be.”

Something is happening here. I'm suddenly hyper aware of the slow-falling rain; the clean male scent of Dean-the way my heart is suddenly pounding in my chest.

Oh, no...

He s.h.i.+fts restlessly in front of me, and for once, I can identify every emotion that crosses his features: frustration, confusion, torment...the intensity of them scares me. I have a very urgent desire to run away from him. To stumble away from the edge before I'm pushed.

Dean is abruptly, stubbornly determined. He towers over me, capturing my gaze with his. His body is a whisper away from mine, and the tiny s.p.a.ce between us crackles with-oh, my G.o.d-s.e.xual tension. I can't even pretend to not know why he looks like he's drowning in me.

I watch the rapid rise and fall of his chest because I have to look away from those eyes. I can't stop shaking-is it possible to feel freezing cold and burning hot at the same time? Maybe I'm deathly ill, and hallucinating this whole thing.

”Juliet.” Dean's voice is quiet, but insistent. ”Ask me where I want to be.”

Oh my G.o.d! Please don't say in me, please don't say, in me...

I hug myself so tightly, my nails are probably leaving indentations in my upper arms. ”I can't-I don't...” I stammer faintly.

I sense Dean lower his head close to mine. ”Right here. Right now,” he says his mouth close to my ear. His warm breath on my skin sends uncontrollable s.h.i.+vers into unexpected places of my anatomy.

I try to meld into the door of his truck at my back. If he touches me, I'll explode. I'll lose control, and-no, no, this can't be happening.

”Dean,” I whisper, finally looking up at him. ”Don't.”

His face-that amazing face of his-is inches from mine. His long dark eyelashes are starred together from the rain, and little droplets of water cling to his skin. How does he make rain look s.e.xy?

”Don't what?” he asks tersely. ”Don't finally go after what I want? I...can't pretend anymore. Don't ask me to.”

This is not happening right now. This is not...

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore the thunderous pulsing in my ears. I can't think! I have to-I slide away from him, ducking under the arm that had me caged between his body and the truck.

”We're friends,” I insist shakily ”That's all we can be. Or-or have you forgotten that your stepbrother is my ex-boyfriend?!”

Dean's face darkens, jaw clenching. ”I know!” he growls. ”You think I wanted this?!”

”Then why are you here?!” I snap, happy to let whatever is building inside of me turn to anger.

”Because.” Dean closes the distance between us in a lightning fast move. He stares down at me, and I'm stunned by the raw emotion in his light-filled eyes. ”You make me feel.”

I am barely breathing. ”Feel what?” I whisper.

He exhales a little cloud of steam. ”Everything.”

We stand there for endless moments-a beautiful boy and a scared, wet girl. I gasp for air. Somehow, without moving, our mouths are inches apart. Just one tilt of the head, one sign of accord from me-it's the only thing holding Dean back from closing that distance, I know.

I...can't give it to him. I forcefully tear my gaze away from his. ”You're my friend,” I say, choking on some unnamed emotion. ”Please...I don't want things to change between us.”

I start to walk away from him, needing to keep some s.p.a.ce between us. He stops me with his quiet voice.

”Just tell me one thing.”

I look back at him. His expression is closed off now, blue/green, gray/green eyes shuttered, and his posture rigid. ”What?” I say, almost fearfully.

Dean pauses. ”Do you still love Johnny?”

I freeze, rooted to the spot. He asks me the one question I've been trying to figure out the answer to for longer than I care to admit. d.a.m.n it, I can't think when Dean's looking at me like that! Where the h.e.l.l is all this-this freaking emotion coming from, anyway? He's not suppose to have feelings like that! He's Dean!

”No-I don't know!” I blurt out. Running both hands through my wet hair, I sigh explosively. ”I still feel...I don't know yet. You know, we have this crazy history-and we almost got back together so many times, but things keep happening, and I'm really confused, and-and why are you asking me, anyway?!”

A wry smile momentarily relaxes Dean's taut features. ”I don't know,” he says with a small shrug. ”I guess I wanted to know if I even have a shot, here.”

”Johnny and I aren't getting back together, but I feel-”

He gives a sudden shake of his head. ”No, forget how you feel about Johnny. How do you feel about me?”

”No, don't ask me that,” I accidentally mumble out loud. Groaning, I hide my face in my hands.

”Juliet.”

”What?” My voice comes out m.u.f.fled, because I refuse to look up.

”Look at me. Please.”

”No, thanks.”

Dean's warm hands grasp my wrists, and gently pull them away from my face. He doesn't let go of me, tugging me closer so we're almost touching again. He says my name again, softer this time, and like a question.

”Yes?” I reluctantly look up at him.

”Just tell me.” He exhales nervously. ”Is there even the slightest chance that you could feel something for me-other than friends.h.i.+p?”

I'm already shaking my head, a tiny movement I can't seem to control. ”I'm sorry, Dean. I can't,” I say softly, feeling like the worst person in the world.

Time is measured by the breaths I gasp for. Inhale. Exhale. The pitter-patter sound of the rain hitting the pavement is the only thing that helps keep my connected this reality-when all I want to do is be sucked into another plane of existence. One where I'm not hurting someone I really care about.

Dean gives me another long searching look. I don't know what he sees in my face, but he gives a short nod, releasing my wrists and stepping away from me.

”Wait!” I say frantically when I realize he's leaving. ”Don't stop being my friend, okay? I couldn't stand it. Can we-can we just...pretend like this never happened? Could you do that for me? Please?”

Dean stops, his hand on the handle of the truck. He looks at me steadily. ”I would do anything for you,” he says, his voice quietly intense.

He opens the truck door, and gets in. I watch him drive away, so many emotions, waving their arms at me, trying to get my attention. The biggest one, most insistent one...feels like regret.

”Okay, so I have this, like, superficial attraction for him-but that's because he's really, really handsome. Like-I could show you a picture.”

I grab my phone off the counter, and quickly scroll through the picture gallery, looking for Dean. When I find him, I triumphantly hand it over.