“You’re making it hard to behave, Emory.”
“I don’t want you to. Teach me how to kiss. Please?”
Auggie cups my jaw. “Part your lips.”
I obey.
“Close your eyes.”
I do. My lashes flutter against my cheeks, as wild as the thrash of my heart.
“Relax,” he whispers.
That I can’t do. His breath is hot on my skin. His mouth covers mine. His lips are warm and soft. His tongue strokes my lips and then slips between them to greet the tip of my tongue. Blood thrums through my veins and rushes in my ears. It feels like I’m on a roller coaster, about to go over the top and careen down a huge drop. He gives me more of his tongue and drifts his fingertips back and forth over my cheek. I’m light as a feather for an instant, and then I’m hurtling down, pressing into the kiss with an urgent need I’ve never experienced before.
Click. The front door. A sharp intake of breath. Casey.
I pull away from Auggie, heart in my throat.
Casey stares between us, eyes wide. “I’m sorry,” he stammers. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll go. Have fun.” He turns, strides to his room, and shuts the door behind him.
Auggie takes his hand away from my cheek, curls it into a loose fist, and knocks his knuckles against the sofa. “That looked like jealousy to me.” His voice is quiet and dull.
“He was embarrassed.”
“Maybe, but the way he looked at you—at us—was jealousy.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’ve been on receiving end of looks like that before. I’m a player, remember?”
Right. None of this is real.
“You should go and talk to him,” Auggie says.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“We have a code. If we leave our bedroom door open, it means it’s okay for the other to come in. If we close it—” I bow my head. Tears sting my eyes. What have I done?
Auggie squeezes my knee. “Make an exception just this once. Talk to him. Tell him you love him.”
I touch my lips. They’re still tingling from the kiss. “What about you?”
“What about me? This was fake, remember?” His words are more casual than his voice sounds. “Operation ‘make Casey realise he’s in love with you’. I think the mission was a success, don’t you?”
I glance at Casey’s closed door. “I don’t know.”
“Talk to him. I’ll wash up and then get out of the way.” He leans forward and kisses my cheek. “I had fun tonight, Emory.”
I press my hand over the spot he just kissed. “So did I.”
“You still want him, don’t you?” There’s a hint of hope in Auggie’s voice.
“Yes.” But I also want Auggie. Everything is so messed up.
I don’t try to stop Auggie as he stands and goes into the kitchen. Water tumbles into the washing-up bowl, and Auggie sings under his breath. I can’t stop staring at Casey’s door. I should talk to him, but what do I say? Why did I let myself get talked into this idea? I suppose the bigger question is, how do I make things right?
