He tasted like chili and lime. His teeth caught my lower lip, and I whimpered slightly. He smiled against my mouth.
“I’ve been thinking about that all night,” he said, not quite pulling back. His breath was warm on my lips. “You sittingacross from me with sauce on your chin, looking at me like—” He stopped. Swallowed.
“Like what?”
“Like I was the most interesting thing to look at.”
I kissed him again. Harder this time. My fingers dug into his hips, and I pressed him back against the brick wall of his building. He grunted, and then his soft moan sent heat flooding through my chest.
“You are,” I said against his jaw. “You’re—”
He grabbed the front of my jacket and kissed me before I could finish. Messy and passionate. His hips pressed forward against mine.
“Come upstairs,” he breathed.
I wanted to. God, I wanted to. But—
“You have practice.”
“I don’t care about practice.”
“You do.” I pulled back just far enough to see his face. His lips were swollen. His eyes were dark. He looked wrecked and beautiful. “And Coach has that creepy sixth sense, remember?”
Pickle groaned. “I hate that you’re responsible.”
“One of us has to be.”
“That’s—” He kissed me again, quick and fierce. “That’s annoyingly mature of you.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
It was an important question.
“Promise.”
He extracted himself from my grip reluctantly, walking backward toward his door, unwilling to look away. His hand fumbled for the handle behind him.
“Goodnight, Adrian.”
“Goodnight, Pickle.”
He disappeared inside. I stood on the sidewalk until the light came on in his third-floor window, and then a few seconds longer, breathing cold air and trying to remember what my life had been before a twenty-three-year-old in orange Crocs made it tilt sideways.
I walked back to my hotel with my hands in my pockets and the taste of him still on my lips.
***
My phone woke me at 6:41 a.m.
Not the alarm—I’d set that for seven. The phone itself was buzzing insistently.
I fumbled for it without opening my eyes. Opening one, I squinted against the screen’s glow.
Naomi (6:41 a.m.):Call me when you’re up.
Naomi (6:43 a.m.):Actually, call me now. I know you’re awake. You sleep like a vampire—light and paranoid.
