“I know. I’m sorry.” He pushes his hand more confidently, skin on skin and fingers lacing through my hair. “Do you want me to make it up to you?”
There’s nothing left to be confused about. I gently toss his sketchbook back onto the couch, hands gripping the cotton sides of his shirt so it’s clear I know exactly what he means.
“Yes.”
Grant takes what feels like forever before he tilts my head to the angle he wants me, head dipping to meet mine in a kiss. My body relaxes when his lips press softly, working in a caress that makes me feel beautiful.
Careful, intentional, slow. I trail my right hand up his body and along the expanse of his neck, lips parting in a sigh when he pushes into me. Arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me onto my toes so our bodies can press impossibly closer together.
My body hums in every spot of contact. Slow turns to passionate. Grant tugs me harder against his body like he’s never wanted anything more than this. I feel him everywhere, thigh against thigh and tongue to tongue.
I thought he’d taste like matcha, earthy and soothing, but he doesn’t. His kiss tastes inexplicitly minty. Fresh and cooling, like he just popped an altoid. Like he planned for today to go in this direction.
When I pull away, his lips follow.
“Did you plan for me to find your sketchbook?”
His gemstone eyes are droopy, vision focused purely on my lips.
I snap my fingers in front of him. “Grant.”
“Huh?” He blinks and pauses before answering, “Oh, yeah. I left it there on purpose.”
“What? Why?”
He smiles and my knees suddenly forget how to work. His arm tightens around my waist, dipping my body back when he goes for another kiss.
His lips linger on mine briefly. Two quick pecks with his hands in my hair before we separate.
“I was hoping you’d go through it, and then I would be able to do that.”
I’ve never been this close to Grant before. His dimples look so much more pronounced when they’re close enough to touch, and there’s traces of my glitter lip gloss spread across his mouth. I reach my thumb up to wipe it away.
“And what were you going to do if I didn’t peek at your drawings?”
“Please.” He rolls his eyes cynically. “I knew you were going to look at them.”
“Hey!” The push off his body is minimal and I stay held in his arms, smacking my hand against his chest. “What does that mean?!”
“It means that you’ve been staring daggers into my sketchbook since we sat on the damn couch.”
“Well, sorry.” Embarrassment sinks in. “You were so focused on your art, and I thought I was coming here to spend time with you so…” He laughs and I smack his vibrating chest again.
“You’re so cute, Liliana.”
“Lily.”
Grant moves away this time, but I don’t take it as him creating space. His eyes widen, glossing over with want. The drawings and the kiss changed something, but both were initiated by him. This is my move.
“What?”
“Lily. You can call me that.” I shake my head and correct myself. “I mean, I want you to call me that.”
“But before-”
My hand hovers to stop him, and I release a breath. “Before, I only said it to spite you. It’s a cute name and I like it. And I like you.”
My heart is thrumming in my ears. Grant planned for me to see those drawings, and that’s as much of a confession that Ineed. It’s me who speaks the words into the air around us, and in a situation where I should be shy, scared, and embarrassed, I’m not.
