I stay quiet. But then he lets out a sigh. A smirk creeps back on his lips, too slow to be innocent.
"But I’m Gio," he says, shrugging. "I live for sick things."
I look up, surprised. He meets my gaze.
"Damn, first time someone risks this much just to kiss me. You owe me. Big."
"I know," I say softly, standing again, half-smiling. "Thank you." I turn to leave.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where do you think you’re going?"
I freeze. "What? It’s in two days."
He tilts his head, eyebrows raised. "You really are clueless." I turn back to him.
"What?"
30) Beg
Rava
The door clicks shut behind me.
His hand presses against it, trapping me between the cold wood and his presence. I can feel him even if he isn’t touching me.
Gio takes the chair across from me and straddles it backward, his arms resting on the backrest as he stares.
"What?" I say, my voice tighter than I want.
He tilts his head. "You ever kissed a guy before?"
No. And I’m probably gonna die from anxiety in your room because you’re the first.
My stomach clenches. "No..."
"Good to know," he says, like he’s mentally taking notes. "So... since we’re doing this... we’re gonna do it right."
I narrow my eyes. "What does that mean?"
"It means," he says slowly, "I’m not letting you walk into that stupid party and kiss me like you’re scared of your own mouth." He grins. "I’ve kissed a straight guy before. Once. Disaster. I could tell it was his first second in the deep end."
I roll my eyes, hard.
"I don’t care what you’ve done with other guys."
That gets him. His eyebrows lift. "Jealous?" he says, smile sharp.
"No," I snap too quickly. "Don’t flatter yourself."
"Mhm," he murmurs, leaning back. "Sure." He stands. He moves toward me slowly again. My back is still against the door.
The way he moves... it feels like I’m not a person anymore.
I’m nothing but prey.
Food.
The boy my father hates the most, the one with the sharp tongue, stands right in front of me, about to put that same tongue in my mouth.
