Barely Breathing (The Breathing #2)(92)

I was interrupted by the warmth of his mouth pressed against mine. And suddenly she wasn't important anymore. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him toward me, sinking down along my headboard so that I was lying on my back as he pulled the pillow off of my lap.

Evan continued to find my lips, trailing his mouth along my neck and sliding his hand across my stomach to the small of my back, positioning himself over me. I relaxed my knees as he lowered himself onto me, my legs wrapping around him.

Our breathing quickened as our kisses became more frantic. I ran my hands along the tight, lean muscles of his back, gripping the end of his shirt, sliding it up.

My door squeaked open. "Your car's … "

Evan rolled over quickly to sit. I pushed up, smoothing the back of my hair, staring at Jonathan's wide eyes and open mouth.

"Sorry, should've knocked," he rushed in a single breath and shut the door.



       
         
       
        

"Uh, boundaries?" Evan stressed from beside me.

"Yeah," I breathed, staring at the door.





24. Happy Birthday



"Should I be worried?" I asked under my breath as my mother danced around the kitchen, pulling bowls onto the counter―dumping bags of chips and spooning containers of dip into them.

"Honestly?" Jonathan asked from beside me, watching the same spectacle.

"Of course," I stressed.

"Probably." His honesty made my stomach churn.

"That's what I thought," I breathed in defeat.

"Hi," Sara greeted joyfully as she opened the front door. I turned toward her, covering the worry with a smile.

"Hi," I responded.

"Sara!" my mother exclaimed, brushing past me to give Sara a hug.

"Happy Birthday, Rachel," Sara offered, hugging her in return while eyeing me in shock over her shoulder. I shrugged in response.

"I brought you something," Sara told her upon being released. She opened her bag and pulled out a neatly wrapped package about the size of a deck of cards.

"You're so sweet." My mother opened it without hesitation and removed a necklace from the box. She held the delicate silver chain in front of her. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Sara returned, taking off her jacket.

"Sara, you must know how to cook," my mother insisted, fastening the chain around her neck.

"Not really," Sara confessed. "My mother's tried to encourage it, but it hasn't taken yet."

"What's with you guys?" my mother shook her head. She returned to the kitchen where she proceeded to pull ingredients out of the refrigerator. "I'm going to have to give Anna a hard time about this. What are you going to do when you go to college?"

A knock followed at the door. Jonathan went to open it as Sara and I took the bowls of chips into the living room. Jared entered carrying a bottle of wine with a bow around it. I stopped short at the sight of it.

"Well, hello," my mother greeted with a smile.

"Rachel, this is Jared," Sara introduced, slipping her arm through his.

"Happy birthday," he stated, presenting the bottle to my mother.

"My favorite," she gushed, taking the bottle from him. "Thank you."

"Where's Evan?" I asked, scanning the driveway. When I didn't see any sign of him, I shut the door.

"He drove separately," Jared explained, following after my mother and Sara toward the kitchen. "He should be here any second."

I remained in the foyer, hoping Evan would arrive soon―and not wanting to go anywhere near the kitchen in fear that I'd be recruited to cook something. 

"Are you friends with Evan?" my mother questioned, laying tortillas on a griddle.

"He's my brother," Jared explained, standing in the kitchen doorway.

"I would have never guessed that," my mother replied, eyeing his broader frame and blond hair, flipped out around his ears. "You look as much alike as Emily and I." She let out a laugh, making Jared smile. "So you must know how to cook."

"Not at all," Jared confessed, glancing at Sara―obviously not sure what to make of my mother. "My brother and I are pretty opposite in just about everything. Is there anything else I can do to help?"

"Do you know how to make margaritas?"

"That I can help with," Jared replied, continuing into the kitchen.

"Great," I muttered under my breath.

The door opened with a knock, and Evan entered with the poker table.

"Let me help you with that," Jonathan offered, appearing from the living room to take the table. Evan followed him with folding chairs in each hand.