When he turns around, I’m hit by this need for him. He smiles, and I take a few steps forward until I’m so close I could touch him if I stretch out my arm.
“May I kiss you again?” I ask.
Arlo takes a step forward. “Technically, last timeIkissedyou.”
“One more reason to even it out.”
He smiles. “Aah, yeah, balance is important.”
“Very…” The word comes out breathy.
We’re teetering at the edge of something, neither making a move as if we’re both too scared of jumping and finding we like the adrenaline rush.
Then the song ends and Hanson’s “MMMBop” starts.
A smile spreads over his face, and I start laughing.
“Come on. Let’s get to work, or we’ll never get to the best part of today,” he says.
“What’s that?”
“Cookies, coffee, kisses.”
I pull him closer and put my hands on either side of his face. My thumb runs over his lip until he opens his mouth slightly.
“Does it have to be in that order?” I ask.
“No.”
I smile. “Okay…tell me where you want me then.”
He groans.
I don’t know what I like the most. That he seems to struggle to step away from me, or that our almost kiss feels more intimate than if we’d given in.
Maybe both. Because I’m selfish like that.
14
ARLO
No one hasthe right to be much of a temptation as Levi. I should get an award for not jumping his bones at the first opportunity, but since he asked to kissme, I can’t find it in myself to initiate it.
I’ve never been shy when it comes to flirting with men or taking the first step. Case in point, I was the one who kissed Levi first.
Maybe it’s my sense of self-preservation that’s stopping me from asking for more. I have a feeling that I could fall for him all too easily, so I need him to take the next step. If he’s as good at failing to stay away as I seem to be, then we may have a chance.
I’m also aware that he comes with an extra side of super cuteness. I couldn’t bear to see Ava get hurt if we start something and it doesn’t work out. Besides, there’s a huge cloud of unknown around Levi.
His past follows him all over town, and I’m the only one who doesn’t seem to be in the know. Although I don’t know if I want to know. I respect Levi whether he wants to move on or if he wants to tell me about it. He doesn’t owe me his history, whether or not I shared mine.
Levi whistles along with the music, occasionally breaking into song whenever there’s a catchy chorus, which is often because nineties pop music is justthatgood.
I try to focus on the task at hand, especially the box cutter I’m using to break the boxes open because the last thing I need is a trip to the hospital. That would surely kill the mood.
“Did you always want to be an artist?” he asks.
True to his word, the room seems to be cleared of any trash very quickly, and we have a neat pile of bags to take outside when we’re done.
