Thoughts are telling me to pull away—that this shouldn’t happen with my childhood best friend—but invisible strings attached to him are holding me still.
One movement could ruin this moment. I’ve always wondered how being with him would feel; it’s a feeling I’ve craved since I learned what a crush meant. How it would feel to have Elijah Drakos look at me like I was the world and he was just revolving around me.
It’s not something I have to imagine now. He’s doing it right now, and I almost need to tap out because I’m afraid I might melt into a puddle right at his feet.
Hooking a finger under my chin, he pulls me impossibly closer, and I almost land in his lap. “You know what would make me feel better?”
“What?” I whisper breathlessly. Can he tell my throat is closing up and the world is getting all hazy?
Am I going to faint? It feels like it.
“You.”
THIRTY-SIX
LILY
All I can hear is my heart pounding erratically in my chest.
I hold my breath, and my eyes flutter shut when he whispers hoarsely, close to my ear, “Do you want to pretend we’re not just friends?”
“Do you?”
A deep, raspy groan sounds from his throat. I feel the air around us thicken, and everything else disappears with his comfortable, familiar touch.
“More than anything, Sweet Cheeks.”
My shaky hands grip his lean neck. I force myself to remain calm while he watches me nervously.
“There’s no harm in pretending for a little while.”
What am I doing? This isn’t something I’ll be able to forget once we part. A moment so intense that it could shatter the world’s exosphere, along with my heart.
But the big question is, will it be worth it?
Maybe. Maybe not.
My stomach turns heavy as heat swirls in my gut. Taking my parted lips as his cue, Elijah captures my lips with his in a passionate dance.
Oh my God. This is really happening.
I’m kissing my childhood best friend, who I’ve had a giant crush on.
People often compare passion to fireworks. I’ve never understood it because I’ve never experienced such a powerful connection—I never let myself. But as his lips part mine and his tongue tentatively sweeps inside my mouth, a bomb goes off.
Elijah encourages me to follow his lead. I feel inexperienced and clumsy from this angle, half leaning over him and him leaning forward. Trying not to overthink anything, I grip his cheeks, climb onto his lap, and straddle him, causing a sexy moan to escape deep in his chest as he manspreads on the couch.
I see stars behind my eyelids as shivers travel down my spine. Fingers spread on my thighs. His chest heaves on mine as I grip the nape of his neck and urge him on with a flick of my tongue. Slowing his pace, he squeezes me closer to him, grabbing my hips. Gasping into the kiss, I feel his arousal push against me. A need to have Elijah as close to me as possible overtakes my body. It doesn’t matter how close I get to him; it will never be enough.
I don’t understand this feeling. A heavy wave of lust, happiness, relief, sadness, and guilt comes crashing through my body like a ruthless ocean. How can someone experience something so profound but feel so gutted?
Our bodies press heavily together. I let out a quiet, choked whimper, and Elijah’s hand grips me around the throat, squeezing slightly.
“I need to stop,” he pants between kisses. Pulling away, eyes heavy and half closed, he drops his sweaty forehead on mine.
Breathing in his musky smell with unease, I cup the back of his head and caress the apple of his cheek while he winds both arms tightly around my waist and hugs me to his chest, like he’s afraid I might disappear into thin air. Little does he know, I’ve lost the ability to walk just by his kiss.
Playfully, he rubs the tip of his nose on mine. “I think I just fell in love with you.” He’s breathless, like he just ran a marathon.
