Rayston Point Road || Editing

Chapter Thirty-One

I walked slowly through Isaac's massive house, my eyes taking in the expensive wallpapering, glittering gold light fixtures, and luxury artwork and furniture that took up space in the large rooms. Through the archway underneath the stairs I entered an open space consisting of many rooms. Directly in front of me at the end of the hallway was a sunroom, entirely enclosed in massive clean windows, delicate furniture in warm pastel colors sitting in the dark space. Beside it to the left was an informal eating area at the end of a neatly-organized, high-end kitchen that seemed almost out of place in such a small town.

There were a few different doors to choose from. The first one, nearest to the arched hallway I had just passed through, opened to a walk-through pantry that connected to the formal dining room on the other side. One door off of the kitchen led to a small powder room, the third finally leading to a massive closet, precisely organized with dozens of cleaning supplies and other kitchen necessities. I pulled my eyes around until I found a broom and dustpan and a towel to pick up some of the larger pieces. With my finds in tow, I made my way back up the stairs, turning off the lights I had flicked on for guidance on my way.

The water was still running when I reached Isaac's bedroom again. I entered only place the shattered frame back on his dresser and to grab the small trashcan sitting by his desk on the other side of his bed, and crouched down in the hallway, holding the towel in my hands as I started picking up some of the larger pieces of glass, dropping them into the trashcan. I had started to sweep the smaller pieces into a pile away from the path of the doorway and was crouching down to sweep them into the dustbin when I heard a door open slowly behind me, I glanced over my shoulder. My eyes landed on Isaac as he walked into view, heading towards his dresser, with only a thick, white towel wrapped low around his waist. Beads of water still glistened against his skin, dripping from the curls of his hair down his back and chest, and I forced myself to turn away before he realized I was watching him. My fingers stayed still in their task, however, and I found myself holding my breath slightly, listening. There was light shuffling, opening and closing of drawers, and then footsteps. When I glanced up, Isaac was walking out of his room, sweatpants now covering his legs, pulling a t-shirt over his torso.

I was about to warn him to be careful, that I may have missed some of the pieces, but Isaac dismissed me, his voice low and raspy, the puffiness around his eyes a giveaway.

"Leave it," Isaac ordered, and when he neared me, he reached down and closed a hand around my upper arm, pulling me up. Instead of just bringing me to a standing position, however, Isaac stepped backwards until we were standing just inside his bedroom, pulling me with him until my back brushed against the wall just beside the doorway, my chest flush against Isaac's.

"Isaac." The word was barely a breath on my lips, brought forward by the part of me that swore I wasn't going to get involved with anyone this summer, the part of me that knew we were about to cross a line that would be impossible to step back over, but it was enough. Isaac hesitated, his hand loosening marginally around my upper arm, his eyes intense and focused as they swam over my face.

"Tell me to stop and I will," he offered. I couldn't bring myself to say so.

Isaac's hand, still warm from the shower, sent my own skin tingling as his palm landed against the back of my jaw, his fingers curling firmly around the back of my neck, his thumb brushing against my cheek. I bent my head back against his hand, closing my eyes as Isaac leaned towards me. With the urgency with which Isaac had pulled me from the floor and into his room, I had expected his kiss to match, but when his lips finally brushed against mine, his urgency was transferred into slow, deliberate movements. From the way he pulled away again slightly, his eyes still heavy and cautious as they flickered between my own, fluttering open and unfocused, and my lips, to the way he leaned back in again, raising his other hand from my arm to my neck to mirror the other, I was captivated.