[AN: Hey!
I just wanted to say thank you so much for 11k reads! I was drafting a 10k appreciation statement but all of a sudden I saw that it went up another thousand. Also, we reached 1k votes and 1k comments!!!
I seriously can't explain how every comment affects (or is it effects?) me personally in the best ways possible. Not to mention every vote and read this book gets as well.
A few taps of your thumb will literally make my heart beat 100 miles per hour. Comments and votes remind me to write and but more importantly remind me why I write-- which is for you guys.
Anyway, I'm writing as much as I can in my free time-- who am I kidding I don't have free time but it's okay.
So be ready for a new chapter on Friday! Until then, have a happy Wednesday (and Thursday)!
Love,
Leah
~~~That used to be a chapter titled "UPDATE" that I posted *I think* in early September of 2018 but deleted so my chapter count is actually accurate to the number of chapters this book has. This change was made October 14th, 2018. Anyways, enjoy my cringey writing lol.]
[Status: Unedited]
[AN: SAME WARNING AS LAST TIME]
"Spencer..." he starts with a voice that, unlike his body, conveys certainty. If I wasn't able to see his face right in front of me... and hadn't just made out with him... that voice would've effectively pushed me away.
Yet I'm still here, partially due to the fact that I used to be a theatre kid. I know an actor when I see one. Jack's cold exterior is cracking, showing some hope that he might not avoid me for the rest of his life.
His voice is pretty convincing though... a surge of doubt rushes through me as I consider fleeing from the situation altogether.
But instead, I watch, frustrated and confused as he wets his lips but doesn't say anything more. The only thing speaking in the room is the return of his awkward, tense posture that conveys all of the pent-up potential outbursts about to reach the surface.
All of those emotions-- whatever they are-- currently stuffed deep inside, make Jack Summers a ticking time bomb.
That should scare me, but it doesn't. For some crazy, messed up reason, I'm not running to take cover as any sane person would do in the presence of timed explosives.
Yet, I can't help but physically flinch when I catch a glimpse of his eyes-- the ones that I expected to be full of anger-- but are instead full of heartwrenching, soul-crushing, stomach curdling guilt.
Why?
He's avoiding any eye contact with me but I'll have none of that-- "Hey, look at me," I reach up and hold the sides of his face so I can turn his head toward me.
I rub my thumb along the edge of his jaw gently, hoping to calm whatever storm is brewing inside.
"What's wrong?" I ask in a more hushed voice-- it's soft but portrays a certain degree of sternness to express my determination. It might be my horny hormones talking but something tells me it's deeper than that. I feel... protective over him. There's something indicating I should give this my best shot.
I am not going to let him go.
Not this time.
"Why'd you stop?" I decide to ask bluntly.
YOU ARE READING
Coffee & Nerves (boyxboy)
RomanceNEW VERSION IS PUBLISHED "He squints his eyes at me with an intense glare that makes me squirm. I don't know if it's the intense pain in my shoulder or his stare, but something sends a shiver down my spine. I have now extended to my full height and...
