At nineteen years old, Hunter McCormick is a hard partying genius who has it all; wealth, good looks, a fast car and a hot girlfriend. Life couldn’t get any better.
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I approached Ellison and we stood nose to nose and chest to chest because I’d walked up so close. She craned her neck to look up at me and I raised my hands to smooth down her arms. But I couldn’t touch her. I held my hands at her shoulders and I looked down at her longingly, but I just couldn’t push past the thin, invisible force that seemed to surround her. I didn’t want to be like Finn. I didn’t want to push myself on her when she was already upset about something else. It wasn’t fair to her. The energy from her body brushed across my palms and I felt twisted up inside because I couldn’t actually touch her.
She blinked slowly and the blue was shining in contrast with her red-rimmed eyes. I could smell the beer on her and she swayed slightly. “Please don’t, Hunter. Please don’t make this harder.” Her voice was a breathy whisper and I closed my eyes in reaction to it. I wanted to do more than touch her. I wanted to sweep her up in my arms and cradle her to me. I wanted to hold her until all the pain and worry left her body. I wanted to tell her I’d take care of her, I’d cherish her, I’d…that, in reality, I’d end up leaving her.
I’d never felt pain before like I did at that moment. It tore at me. Physical pain shot through my body and my chest tightened. But I pulled my hands back to myself. I protected her heart by not touching her.
For once, I was trying not to be the selfish bastard I knew I was.
She blinked slowly and the blue was shining in contrast with her red-rimmed eyes. I could smell the beer on her and she swayed slightly. “Please don’t, Hunter. Please don’t make this harder.” Her voice was a breathy whisper and I closed my eyes in reaction to it. I wanted to do more than touch her. I wanted to sweep her up in my arms and cradle her to me. I wanted to hold her until all the pain and worry left her body. I wanted to tell her I’d take care of her, I’d cherish her, I’d…that, in reality, I’d end up leaving her.
I’d never felt pain before like I did at that moment. It tore at me. Physical pain shot through my body and my chest tightened. But I pulled my hands back to myself. I protected her heart by not touching her.
For once, I was trying not to be the selfish bastard I knew I was.
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M.S. Willis is a romance novelist whose debut novel, Control, was released in 2013. Although currently writing in the romance genre, Willis has plans to expand her literary pursuits into multiple genres and has no fear conquering difficult subject matters in her writing. Willis is a native Floridian who is also a photographer and musician. When not absorbing herself in written, visual or musical expression, Willis is an adrenaline junkie, a ‘closet’ video game enthusiast, and an avid outdoors person and nature lover.
Visit M.S. Willis on her author page: www.facebook.com/mswillisbooks
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