Read Breathe for Me for Free Online Page B

closer and pulls out a sheet of paper that has writing all over it. Lines are scratched through, doodles drawn in the margins. He thrusts it at me, pointing at the bottom. “You said for me to pick a topic, so I did. I hope this one’s okay—I know it’s not what we originally discussed, but it just came to me.”
    I take the paper from him, my hand shaking slightly, and read what he wrote in block letters:
    DESTINY
    My stomach flips over itself. “That…that topic should provide lots of material,” I finally say after a minute, my voice faint. He couldn’t have picked a more appropriate subject to my life if I’d handed it to him directly.
    â€œI figured we could alternate lines, or each of us take a stanza.”
    â€œI really like the stanza idea,” I reply as I hand the paper back to him. I draw out my own clean sheet and grab a pen, scribbling in the corner to get the ink flowing. “Maybe you could write the first one, and I’ll write a reply. Or vice versa.”
    He nods. “That’ll work nicely. And it’s a good distribution of the work, which should make Mrs. Scott happy.” He glances at her as she leans over another group’s desks, pointing to their paper.
    I turn my eyes to my blank page, suddenly afraid to look at him. Samantha’s words about her honesty with Rick tickle the back of my brain, and I push it away. I’m not her. I don’t have her freedom to be more than friends. I should be satisfied with what I do have, with the time I get to spend here in this city. With these people. And yet, every day, I find myself wanting more.
    â€œYou okay?” Dominic asks me.
    I look over at him. His brows are bunched together, his irises dark. He reaches a hand toward mine, then stops and pulls it back. I can’t interpret the look in his eyes.
    Disappointment at his withdrawal creeps through my veins. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I say. Inside my head, I scoff at my stupidity. How quickly I forget who I am when I’m around him. I force my attention back to my paper. “Let’s just concentrate on our project.” My words have a strong bite to them, one I don’t try to hold back. It’s better this way, anyway.
    He sighs, turning away from me.
    For the rest of the period, we work in silence. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him writing furiously.
    I wish I could say I’m productive, but my mind is blocked. No words will pour from my pen. I feel mute, silenced by my own emotions, by the heat from his body that warms my side. The soft scratching sound of him writing on his paper is absorbing, and I close my eyes and just listen, shutting out the world around me. Opening up my heart for one moment in the only safe way I know.
    The bell rings, jarring me out of my fog. I gather my books and stand quickly, edging away from my desk.
    Dominic grabs my hand.
    The gesture stops me in my tracks. The warmth from his palm seeps through my glove, absorbs into my skin, fuses with my cells and tiny hairs and molecules and veins.
    I turn to face him.
    He rises from his seat, still gripping me. “Please don’t run from me anymore,” he asks, his voice raw. His eyes are wide, piercing mine with a tiny sliver of hurt and…some other emotion. It seems a little familiar, but I can’t quite figure it out at the moment. I’m too distracted by the sensory overload of him.
    â€œI’m sorry,” I say, pouring earnestness into my voice.
    He shakes his head slowly. His eyes swirl with shades of blue, and he peers down at me with no disguise or veil to protect himself. In this moment, I can see everything inside him. I recognize that emotion in his gaze as desire.
    Desire—for me.
    The air whooshes from my lungs. The stirrings of my own longing match his, slamming to the surface of my skin in a heated fervor. My pulse speeds up.
    â€œNo more apologies, Isabel,” he says, then loosens his