There’s that feeling again. ThatI need to kiss her againfeeling. But I can’t do that without explaining she’s who I’ve always wanted to kiss, the firstpersonI’ve ever wanted to kiss. I have to tell her that, but I’m so nervous that my knees threaten to shake underneath my bodyweight. Yet, she’s peering up at me,waiting for me to speak…with those wide, brown eyes and plump lips parted in awe. Like she’s studying me.
Do something.
Come on.
“Maeve…” My voice falters as I speak.
Her face falls, and I feel like I need to backpeddle. “Yeah?”
Is this coming out right? It must not be. She looks like I’m about to tell her something terrible.Isit terrible? Is she dreading the words that are about to leave my lips?
“The girl…” I swallow. “The girl I want to kiss?”
She nods, and I notice that her shoulders sag. Oh, God. She’s dreading this, isn’t she? I could make something up. I should. But from the look on her face, she must already know. Every part of her face is construed into this…grimace. As if what I’m going to say will hurt her.
You can’t go back.
I weakly point a finger at her, my knees wobbly and my heart about to give out any second. “I-It’syou.”
She blinks for a second, her frown disappearing as her eyebrows shoot up. Her mouth falls open just slightly, and I can see her cute front teeth as she struggles to form a coherent sentence. Is that good? Did I stun her in a good way? Or…
I want to die. Yeah, right here. I want to pass out and get away from this right now. My cheeks are so warm that I’m convinced they very well could be on fire. I’ve stunned her into silence because, of course, the idea of actually kissing me for real must be awful.
Oh, Jesus.
But then she stuns me right back as she speaks.
“What’re you waiting for, then?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MAEVE
Friday, December 24th
Tatum’s confession has me reeling.
And I mean,reeling. It takes my brain a good minute to catch up with what he just said, and even then, nothing could have prepared me for what he was going to say. This whole time, the person he was trying so hard to impress with a kiss wasme. For some reason, I can’t wrap my mind around that. Me, of all people? There’s so many other girls he could choose from,normalgirls, and yet…
He chose me.
Something about that lights a flame inside my core, burning so bright that I could combust from the heat of it. I have the strongest urge to stand on my tiptoes and smash my lips into his, but I know he needs to make the first move. He’s practiced for this. I know he’s shy and awkward and probably about to keel over from nerves, but he needs to do this.
I don’t know ifheknows that yet, but he just has to. He’s been working so hard to open up with me; I can’t ruin all that progress he’s made.
“What’re you waiting for, then?” I squeak out.
My ears echo as the words leave my mouth, and my skin pricks with goosebumps that send a visceral shiver through my body. My nipples harden against the fabric of my bra, and I have to hold my breath just to regain my composure.
Tate contemplates my question, his eyelashes fluttering faintly behind his glasses as his brows twitch, like he’s nervous. He has to be, even I am. His full lips separate, almost like he’s going to say something, but then they clamp shut again, and he’s practically gulping.
My head nods ever so faintly, like a small reassurance that he’s got this. He can do this. I’m giving him permission to.
It’s what he must have needed because his hand is lifting in mere seconds, so very slowly, and it’s trembling. I watch his shaky fingers as they reach up toward me, sliding along the side of my neck and holding steady there. The way he’s so physically nervous makes heat pool low in my belly; I’m just as nervous, even though we’ve kissed already. But that was before I knew he wanted to kiss me. Wanted to kiss me so badly that his large hands were shaking just trying to cup my face in his palms.
His chest is heaving as he takes a tiny step closer to me, closing the gap between us and inching his face down tentatively toward mine. I can hear my heartbeat thudding in my ears as I wait for his lips to press against my own, and when they do, I can’t stop the sigh from slipping past them and into his mouth. He swallows it with soft kisses, timid little movements that send my heart soaring and my stomach flipping into oblivion.
Oh, fuck it.
