I purse my lips. “Do your parents know how much you like cooking or how good you are at it?”
“No.” A note of finality in Auggie’s voice warns me to leave it alone.
“Well, I appreciate your culinary skills. Thanks for making dinner for me.”
We chat as we eat, the air gradually getting more comfortable between us. It’s great talking to Auggie about something other than pharmacology. He’s funny, charismatic, and as I’d already realised, a huge flirt. He makes me smile and laugh. His compliments fill me with warmth and make me want him far more than I should, especially as I’m certain we want different things. I’ve always imagined myself with a boyfriend rather than a one-night stand. Not that this is either of those things. It’s a fake date to make Casey jealous. Nothing more.
When we’ve finished eating, Auggie takes my plate. Our fingertips brush. Little shivers of electricity chase around my body. I shiver and suck in a breath. Smiling, he takes our cups and plates to the kitchen and then sits beside me once more.
He rests one arm on the top of the sofa and leans closer. “How long until Casey gets home?”
I check my watch. “In fifteen minutes or so.”
“How cosy do you want to be when he gets home?”
My body starts to overheat. “Um.”
“Like this?” He shuffles closer and puts his hand on my hip.
He skims his fingers over my jeans.
I swallow. “I’ve never been this close to a guy before. Except for Casey. We cuddle all the time. He’s very snuggly, considering he’s straight.”
“Might be straight. You don’t know for sure.”
“True.” Casey would have told me if he were into guys, wouldn’t he?
“Do you want to get closer?” Auggie asks.
I do. But should we? We only need to look like we’re into each other.
“Is this okay?” Auggie strokes my cheek with his knuckles.
My skin warms beneath his touch. My heart flutters. It’s hot in here and hard to breathe. “Yes.”
It’s very okay. His touch is like the sun warming my skin on a summer’s day. Or sunlight streaming through the window in the morning, waking me up.
He leans towards me. Is he going to kiss me? I half close my eyes, waiting for his lips to connect with mine.
He stops. “Sorry, I’m getting carried away. I know you’ve never kissed anyone. You probably want your first kiss to be with Casey.”
“I—” Is that what I want?
“It’s okay. I’ll behave.”
“Who was your first kiss with?”
“A prefect at the boarding school I went to. It was nothing special. It was sloppy, and he didn’t know when to stop shoving his tongue down my throat. I’ve had much nicer kisses since then, and I’ve got a lot better at it.”
“Good enough to give lessons in kissing?” What am I saying? Why does my voice sound so breathy?
“Would you like a lesson?”
“On kissing?”
“Yes.”
I nod.
