Callum shuts his eyes and sucks in a breath. “I don’t know, like, I walk to class, and I catch people judging me.”
“What makes you think they’re judging? Everyone’s probably?—”
“Sometimes they’ll laugh with their friends after I notice them.”
No.Oh my god. This poor, sweet man thinks people are judging when they’re actuallyeye-fucking him.
“Callum, nobody is judging you,” I say, giving his shoulder a firm grip. “They’re checking you out because you’re hot as sin.”
His head jerks up, and he furrows his eyebrows.
Okay, maybe telling a guy with probable religious trauma that he’s “hot as sin” isn’t the best idea, even if it’s true. Still, I shouldn't be annoyed, and I'm not annoyedatCallum, rather, the thought of him feeling less than stellar about himself makes me want to beat up whoever made him think that.
His voice catches in his throat. “I’m…what?”
Really?Time to ramp it up.
“You’re hot, Callum. You're sofuckinghot. You’re the kind of guy who makes people lose focus in class and walk into lampposts.”
He stays silent, those full lips slightly parted, so I continue.
“And it’s not just how you look. You’re the gentlest, sweetest guy I’ve ever met. You listen. You care. You don’t judge me for being chaotic and loud and stupid. You’re so kind, almost to a fault, and?—”
He makes some kind of groaning noise, covering his face with his gloved hands, and I immediately reach up to spread them apart.
“Hey, nope. Nope, nope, not having it. None of that hiding, Cal,” I tease. “You gotta take it in. You need to hear how awesome of a person you are?—”
“Stop,” he says, a strained smile playing across his lips. Callum tilts his head up, maybe to hide his expression, but all that does is make the blush creeping up his neck all the more obvious.
“Why? Is it because you aren’t used to hearing people say nice things about you?”
No response.
“Come on,” I drawl. “What’s the harm in getting a few compliments from a guy who’s really into you?”
That manages to make him relax, and he returns his gaze to me. “It’s, I don’t know, almost too good to be true.”
I bark out a chuckle that's part surprise, part disbelief. “That’s not a reason for me to stop, is it?”
He shakes his head. It’s so subtle, it’s barely perceptible. “I guess not.”
“So believe me when I say I like you back. And if you can’t, I’ll make you.” I press my hands together. “How much did you have to drink tonight?”
Callum raises his eyebrows, probably a little confused at the subject change. “Uh, like four? And my last one was that awful concoction.”
I grin, thinking back to Callum forcing down the King’s Cup. He’s had more than me, though not by much, and he’s bigger.
“I’m not drunk or anything, if that’s what you’re asking,” he adds.
Awesome. I can spill my feelings for his sake, and he won’t do something drunken that he ends up regretting.
“Look, I'll spell it out for you,” I continue, gazing into his confused eyes. “I want you. You’re the whole package of everything I fuckingcrave. Fuck, I want to kiss you so goddamn bad, and if you want it too, just come and take it. I want to feel your hands onmy face”—and your cock in my mouth—“and your tongue in my mouth, and?—”
Callum cuts me off with a strangled noise from his throat. He parts his lips in the silence, sucking in a breath.
Then he swoops down and crashes his lips onto mine.
Callum is kissing me.
