He pulled back, gazing at me with a look in his eyes that I couldn’t read, but made me uncomfortable. I moved my mouth back to his, resuming the kiss, wanting to block out his face. Block out his knowing look. Block out the thoughts and emotions swirling around in my nearly frozen brain.
And just feel the heat.
Our hands were touching again, backed up against the other’s, each of us clutching clothes and trying to get closer.
His hips moved against mine, slow, easy. Nothing like the furiousness in our kissing.
It was like a challenge, combat almost—who could taste the other more, who could fit their lips the mostly perfectly against the other’s. Who could make those delicious moans come forth.
I opened my eyes and saw our breath from our joined mouths float off in little clouds due to the cold. And I looked up and saw Stick staring into my eyes as he hungrily feasted on my mouth.
It was too close. And, delicious as the heat rushing through my body felt, it was all wrong.
I loosened my grip on his hoodie, turned my hands and pushed him away. It wasn’t a gentle “no, honey, that’s far enough” push. It was a “get the hell off me” push, and Stick stepped back, though still held my coat.
“Not gonna happen,” I said in a calm, low voice that masked the yearning and heat I felt inside. I met his eyes and made my face turn to stone. It was a look I’d perfected over the years. A look that said I would absolutely not change my mind.
He let go of my coat and took another step back. His hoodie was low enough that it hid the bulge I’d just felt pushing against me. He ran a hand through that mop of hair of his while never taking his eyes from mine. I didn’t break eye contact either.
Both of us were breathing heavily, and the little puffs of breath carried between us, almost like thought bubbles in the comics.
He didn’t even look when his friend pulled up right behind him in Stick’s car and got out of the driver’s seat. Stick had probably heard the car approaching (like a mother knows her baby’s cry), but I hadn’t.
Not saying a word to either of us, the friend moved around the car and got in the passenger seat.
Stick’s breathing seemed to return to normal, while my chest (damn it!) was still heaving.
Without looking behind him, he took a step back and placed his hand on the opened door with complete accuracy.
Okay, the guy truly pissed me off, and kind of scared me a little, but that was averycool move.
“I can give you another lesson on Thursday. Same time. Yes or no.”
No. No, no, no, my self-preservation voice screamed inside my head.
“Yes,” I said.
No look of triumph, no parting smile. Just a small nod, and he got in his car and drove off.
Well, I had to give Stick one thing—asshole or not, the guy could make an exit.
Chapter13
It wasa rare night that all three of us were in our dorm room together. We studied for a while. Syd came over and plopped on Lily’s bed while Lily studied at her desk.
After a while, we all took off our earbuds and started talking.
You would think that three people who lived together wouldn’t need to “catch up,” but we did.
They’d both gotten to the room late. It was the afternoon Lily gave swimming lessons, and Syd was at one of her jobs.
Maybe I should get a job. I was handling school okay, didn’t need a ton of time for studying. With Lily and Syd so busy, I had extra time on my hands.
But then I thought about my upcoming second driving lesson. And would there be a third? And even if there wasn’t, I’d have more freedom having a car on campus. I could drive into Baltimore, or down to DC. Not that I would, most likely, but Icould.
I hadn’t planned on telling my roomies about the car just yet. It still seemed kind of unreal, but then I realized it had been kissing Stick and standing in front of Caro Stratton’s house that had been the most unreal parts of the afternoon. Those two items I’d definitely keep to myself.
“So, my dad bought me a car. I got it today,” I said after a lull in the conversation.
