“Look at me,” I say, but he doesn’t. I use the tip of my finger to turn his chin. “Look at me.”
His soft brown eyes find mine, and there’s a vulnerability there that I still haven’t gotten used to seeing.
My hands cup his cheeks. “You’re the one who finally told me how you were feeling, and now I’m here, feeling the same way, and you’re not?”
He shakes his head. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then talk to me. Because right now it feels like we’re strangers.”
He pushes my hair back and softly tucks the loose strands behind my ear.
“That’s the thing, Addie.” His voice is low and steady, his gaze dropping away from mine again.
“What is?”
He lets out a deep sigh, like this has been pressing on him for so long. “I know how to be your friend, but I’m a little scared to be your boyfriend.” His voice is strained like he feels guilty. My heart breaks a little…he shouldn’t feel guilty.
“Baby.” I breathe. “You’re not supposed to—”
His eyes flick up to mine. “Call me that again.”
A smile pulls at the corners of my mouth. “Baby…” My tone is playful, but the second the word leaves my lips again, something in his eyes shift.
His eyes darken and one of his hands tightens on my waist while the other moves up to cradle the back of my head, pulling me in as his mouth crashes against mine. The kiss is intense, demanding, like I’ve just undone him.
As our mouths move together. The heat that spreads through me is intoxicating. His rough, calloused hand glides over my bare skin just under the bottom of my shirt.
I do the same back to him, my fingers just brushing the skin on his lower back before they trace around to his sides.
His hands immediately clamp my wrists and he breaks our kiss.
“Addison…” he whispers, his voice thick. Our uneven breathing fills the air between us. “We need to slow down.”
“I wasn’t goingto—”
“I know.” His fingers brush against my cheek. “We need to have some boundaries though.”
I understand what he’s saying. I guess that’s something I’ll have to get used to. Brantley was really touchy—all the time—pushing me past my comfort zone sometimes. I just didn’t want to disappoint him or fight about it. I felt like I had to make up for my anxiety getting in the way of so much.
I like Wesley’s hands on my waist though. I like being this close to him and I like how he kisses me. We haven’t really talked about boundaries explicitly. We both know what’soff-limits; it’s understood without needing to be said.
“I know.” I climb off his lap.
“I mean…our parents don’t even know we’re seeing each other.”
I laugh. “We should probably tell them what’s going on.”
“Yeah, maybe this weekend.”
“You could come for lunch on Sunday?” I ask
“Oh, you wanna tell them together?”
“We don’t have to, I just thought—”
“We can. Let’s do it.” He checks his phone. “I should get you home,” he says, clearing his throat, and shifting the truck into drive.
“Do you think we’ll get married?” I blurt out with hardly any hesitation. It just happened to come to mind.
