Cloud Walking

her. Scared that if I did, I would attack her. And by attack, I mean maul her face with my lips.

    I started thinking about pressing her tiny, pert little body against mine. Running my hands along her sexy curves. Tasting her tongue as I...

    I squeezed my eyes shut.

    Think about Granny Lowe naked. Ugh. Okay, now think about Granny Lowe and Stephen naked. Together.

    Yep, that did it. My burgeoning erection was now limp in my pants. Thank god. Last thing I needed was for Rachel to see me at half-mast as I ran from her house.

    I got to my feet, confident I wouldn't reveal a tent under my zipper and headed for her front door. I just had to leave. I had to put some distance between me and the girl who had somehow morphed into a sex siren in the span of forty-five minutes.

    “Daniel. Are you okay? I mean...you're being stranger than usual.” Rachel sounded worried. Upset even. I knew that in her mind this was just me blowing her off again. But I knew, without a doubt, that if I sat in her living room, just the two of us, for a moment longer, I would make a complete and total fool of myself. I would touch her and kiss her and hold her in a way that would ruin everything we were.

    Because Rachel Bradfield was my best friend. And she deserved a hell of a lot more than an asshole like me. She deserved a guy who could be her prince charming. Not a douchebag who didn't know his ass from his elbow. A guy who had spent his entire life screwing up everything he touched.

    Rachel was better than me. She could do better than me. And damned if I didn't want more for her than my sorry ass.

    I stopped at her front door and hefted my book bag up on my shoulder, steeling myself to turn around and face her. I swiveled on my heel, a smile firmly in place. Rachel would never know the out of control thoughts running through my brain.

    I would take it to the grave.

    I would not ruin the best relationship in my life over crazy hormonally driven lust. But even I could recognize that what I felt for the girl in front of me went way beyond lust.

    But I couldn't go there. Not now. Not ever.

    So I ignored the way her mouth turned down in that cute way of hers. The way her eyes crinkled up at the corners when she was irritated. The hot flush on her chest that spread up the sides of her neck, a sure giveaway that she was not happy. Okay, now my eyes were focusing a little too long on her chest.

    Get it together, man!

    “I'm fine. I just really have to go. Thanks for offering to help. Sorry if I screwed up your evening,” I told her sincerely. Because I really did hate the fact that she more than likely put aside her own stuff to help me. Maybe I really did take her for granted. Because Rachel never thought twice about helping me.

    See, that was why she deserved better.

    Rachel's brown eyes softened a fraction, though her pretty mouth was still set in a firm line. “Yeah. Well, maybe you need to start keeping a schedule. You know, since you're so busy,” she bit out and I blinked at her in surprise.

    Wow. I was not used to the biting responses from her. This new no-nonsense side of Rachel was a surprise.

    And freaking hot.

    I had to leave! Now!

    “Yeah. Good idea. Later, Rach,” I said quickly, pulling open the front door and dashing outside. Yep, I ran away. Like a little bitch.

    Things were not going well. Ever since our almost kiss three days ago, Rachel and I have been at each other's throats. Her patience for all things Daniel Lowe seemed to be at an end. I could practically taste her annoyance as we sat together during lunch.

    Maggie hadn't shown up yet, so it was just Rachel and me. Together. Being agonizingly silent as we ate our lunch and tried not to choke on the tension that seemed to have blossomed between us.

    It seriously sucked.

    “Rach...” I started to say. I wasn't exactly sure what was about to come out of my mouth. It could have been a plea for her forgiveness. An apology for all of my assy behavior over the years.

    It could have been a verbal attack toward her icy chill.

    Or it could have been a confession. One that seemed harder to keep from bursting out. The truth of why I ran out on her three days ago. The reason I was finding it hard to sit so close to her and not touch her. And the fact that I could barely look at Kylie without imaging my best friend instead. How the only lips I wanted to taste and touch were Rachel Marie Bradfield's.

    I had it bad.

    Rachel looked up at me as I said her