And for the first time in my life, I can breathe when someone is close to me.
That’s the part that frightens me. Not the kiss. Not the wanting. But the breathing.
I slowly turn my head, as if one wrong breath might wake her and send this whole thing to shit.
Her mouth is slightly parted. No glasses. Long lashes rest against her cheeks. Freckles scattered across her nose that you don’t notice unless you’re close. Close enough to count them. Her hair’s a mess from sleep, a strand falls across her cheek. There’s a crease on her face from the couch cushion. She’d probably be embarrassed if she knew.
But fuck, she’s beautiful. Not the loud, filtered, posed, tits-out, lip-glossed kind of beautiful that has guys lining up with their cocks already half hard. She’s the quiet type. The kind who sneaks in when you’re not looking and hooks into your ribs.
My eyes move to her mouth, because I remember exactly how she tasted. Warm. Sweet. A little desperate.
I remember how she melted into me. I didn’t pull away when she did that, and that’s a problem. But damn, I want it again. Her mouth. Her breath. The heat of her pressed against me.
I want to roll her under me and take that sleepy softness and turn it into fire. I want to hear what she sounds like when she forgets to be careful. When she stops thinking and just feels.
That right there really scares the hell out of me. Because this isn’t just some random girl from a party. This isn’t a name I’ll forget by tomorrow.
This is Lola.
I wonder if she’s a virgin. She probably is.
She’s not the type of girl who gives herself away to assholes who collect bodies and call it experience. She doesn’t seek validation. Doesn’t need a guy’s hands on her to feel wanted. She walks through the world with her head held high and her sarcasm ready, never once glancing around to see who’s watching.
Girls like her don’t fuck guys like me. They fall in love with guys who deserve them. Nerdy ones just like her.
I’m fucking scared that I already ruined something good. That she’ll wake up and the air between us will feel awkward.
I take a deep breath and try to stay still.
I’ll wait to see what she does when she wakes up.
If she pulls away, I’ll swallow it and pretend none of this is tearing at my chest.
For once in my life, I’m not chasing after anything. I’m waiting.
She stirs and I go completely fucking still.
Her lashes flutter, slow and heavy, then her eyes open. Blue. Clear. A little dazed from sleep and too damn pretty. For half a second she just blinks at me, trying to figure out where she is.
Then she focuses on me and I hold my breath.
This is it. The split second where everything could go to shit. Where she frowns. Where she pulls back. Making it awkward all because we shared a fucking kiss.
Her mouth tilts.
A slow, knowing smirk spreads across her face, and damn, I almost laugh from the relief.
“Well,” she murmurs, voice still thick with sleep. “This is kind of unfair.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What is?”
“You.” She squints at me. “It’s illegal to wake up looking that pretty. Some of us need at least ten minutes and caffeine.”
I snort. “Pretty?”
“Don’t let it go to your head.” She shifts slightly but remains pressed against me. “I said looking. That could just be the lighting.”
I smirk, but the relief hits my chest so hard I almost choke on it.
