He likes me too.My heart flutters at the realization, the certainty of it.
It's my first time cuddling, and I decide I would now like to cuddle for every minute of every day until forever. He couldcrush me to death just like this, and I'd die happy. Does it always feel like this? I feel like it couldn't unless your heart's safe. Mine's safe with him. Right now, the whole world could fall down and I'd be okay as long as I'm right here.
We fell asleep watching movies last night. As suspected, he loved K-Pop Demon Hunters and laughed real loud and got all sad in the end. I still can't believe we fought a pack of raccoons. Or that I--
Oh my god. I asked him to teach me kissing.And the other stuff too.I'm not ashamed--I meant it. Not because I don't think I could figure out how to kiss--and other stuff--if given the opportunity. It's because the thought of kissing him doesn't terrify me, not like the thought of giving my first kiss to a random guy from a dating app. And not that I think I'd have to kiss some random guy. Obviously I'd get to know somebody, but that pressure would be on me from the start. It's not like I could tell a guy on a first date that I'm a virgin who's never been kissed. I don't even think that's third date material.
The whole thing gives me hives.
But Grey? Grey gives me full body chills.
Mostly I'm embarrassed, worried he'll think I'm weird or crazy, or worse--that he'll say no. I don't want to ruin what we have, but I also would really, really die to kiss him. He's safe and warm and good. And hot. I want to kiss him. I want to do other stuff with him. I'm tired of waiting to experience touch and desire and passion. I've waited twenty-four years, and what--I'm supposed to find the 'right guy'? Wait some predicated amount of time? What if he's terrible in bed and I don't know it? Will the 'right guy' be so thoughtful as Grey? Would he take care of me like Grey does? Would he handle me and my inexperience thoughtfully, carefully?
What if Greyisthe right guy?
If he agrees to this, will it turn into more? My heart zings with hope, the nosedives. Because what if it doesn't? Can I live with that?
I close my eyes, and when I smell him again like a creep, my body responds, hot desire slithering through me.
Yeah, I think I could definitely live with that.
The truth is, he makes me feelhungry, hungry for his laughter, the sound of his voice, the way he looks at me with those pale eyes, intense and insistent. I'm hungry for his touch, and he's never evenreallytouched me, not like that, not on purpose.
I want him to.
But it was actually insane to ask him out loud.
Is it actually possible he'll sayyes? He said ask him sober, though I don't know if that's for my sake or his. Probably both. But…would he? What if he was my first kiss? I close my eyes and breathe deep--my whole entire body shivers and warms at the invasion of his scent.
Yup. I want that. I want itreal bad.
I'm surprised the thought doesn't scare me more. It feels inevitable.
Grey sighs, mutters something. His arms tighten like a boa constrictor, and somehow he manages to roll onto his back, taking me with him. Which is a lucky, considering there is zero room for me next to him if he's flat on his back. I squeak, giggling despite being slightly concerned we're going to roll onto the floor and I'm going to get knocked out by the coffee table, but even in sleep, he is in complete control.
At the sound of my laughter, he sort of snorts awake. In the process of rolling over, I've slipped down his body a little, enough that I can rest my hands on his chest and my chin on top of them. Gosh, he's so hot. Like, why is hisnosehot? The little flat part in the middle of the bridge, the shape of the tip,somehow angled and round and strong. His lips are soft and wide, reminding me of his smile last night, big and bright and perfect. His pale, gray eyes blink open, widening when he sees me. His arms don't let up though. And those lovely lips of his smile easily, tugging up higher on the one side.
"Hi," I say quietly, smiling back.
"Hi," he answers, his voice all gravelly. It's so deep, the word vibrates through my ribs.
"I'm sober."
Again his eyes widen, his arms flexing in surprise.
In case he doesn't know what I mean, I clarify. "You told me to ask again when--"
"I know what I said, peaches." A pause as he looks me over. "Can I have a cup of coffee before we talk about this?"
HE DIDN'T SAY NO!
Grinning, I nod, pushing myself up to sit and roll off of him, grabbing my glasses off the coffee table. The motion presses our hips together in a way that sends a fresh shiver through me, and once I'm on my feet, I almost skip to the kitchen to start the coffee pot. He doesn't join me right away--. When I sneak a glance back at him, he's in various states of distress. First, elbows on his knees, raking his hands through his hair. Then, sitting back on the couch with his face pointed at the ceiling. He shakes his head on the way to the bathroom, but I'm still grinning like a dink becausehe didn't say no.
The pot is sputtering and spitting by the time he comes out, and I've got two mugs waiting next to where I'm leaning back against the counter, smiling. When he sees me, he falters. Seriously, he isso hot. Hair all mussed, broad shouldered, his chest and arms almost too big for his tee. His nipples are hard, just two little points that catch the light in such a way that I wish he was shirtless. I'd ask for that too, but I don't want to press my luck.
"Hi," I say again.
Grey's smirk flickers. "Hi." He pauses at the table like he's not sure whether to sit or approach me for the coffee. "So, you got high." Like a chicken shit, he pulls out a chair and sits. "What'd you think?"
