"You're so bossy." I murmur against his lips and he grunts again, lifting me until I'm straddling his lap.
I jerk but the feel of his lips and his hands on me quickly overrides any self-preservation I may have had.
This is what the books talk about. Is this what it was meant to be like all along?This does not feel like practice.
We kiss for what feels like hours yet could only have been a few minutes, my eyes shut and riding the wave that is Asher Hudson.
He groans, "You have to stop grinding on me like that."
I pull back, my lips tingling and my eyes move to his lips, noticing how puffy and pink they are. I'm sure mine mirror his.
And then his words penetrate my thick skull and embarrassment comes crashing in.
Of course. He just wants help with his school work and in return he'll help a friend out. And here I am grinding on him like a bitch in heat.
Get a hold of yourself Ivy. He's Asher Hudson and your,you.
I slip off Asher's lap, clear my throat and drop my head, wiping my lips to give myself something to do to disguise the embarrassment before slipping back onto my side of the bed.
"Right. Sorry."
"Ivy."
I ignore his tone, not needing his pity right now. I already feel crap; I don't need to feel worse. I flip the book over. "Tell me what you need done, any assignments?"
It takes a second for him to answer but then a resigned sigh is leaving his lips. "I need to-"
I'm not proud to admit that I tune him out, my own existential crises eating me from the inside and then I'm bouncing up from the floor. "I just remembered I got to do. . . Stuff. I have to go home." I aim for the door with quickening steps and Asher calls out, confusion coating his tone thickly. Which is quickly replaced by amusement.
"This is your house."
"Lock up when you leave." I say over my shoulder as I run from my problems.
I don't hear him reply or come after me as I race out of the house and into my car, driving towards the theatre.
I don't remember a single turn on the drive here.
No roundabouts. No stop signs. No landmarks.
Just the feeling of my chest caving in and my hands gripping the steering wheel like if I loosened my hold, I'd float off the road entirely.
I park crooked, jump out of the car, slam the door and lock it without looking back.
A woman near the entrance stares at me like I've lost my mind.
She's not wrong.
I barrel into the theatre, force my breathing to slow, then immediately wonder why the hell I'm running to Asher's sister about Asher.
Because she's my best friend.
Because I kissed her brother.
Because I need advice from the one person I absolutely cannot tell the truth to.
I stop dead in the middle of the foyer.
Breathe out.
