I was too busy enjoying the feel of his slightly roughened skin against my throat to reply. He pulled back, watching me. I got the distinct impression he wouldn’t go on until I answered.
“They don’t go into a lot of detail. You have to read between the lines.”
“For example?” He was watching me with an expectant air. It occurred to me that Alex often looked at me that way, as if I might at any moment say something delightful and surprising.
“Like two characters go on a carriage ride and end up taking a detour through the woods. She lets him kiss her and the next chapter she’s having a baby and naming it Sorrow.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Tip of the iceberg. She ends up stabbing the guy later.”
His hand came to rest on my shoulder, thumb lightly brushing my collarbone. “The good news is you can’t actually get pregnant from kissing.”
“I know that.”
“Just making sure. I wouldn’t want you to shank me.”
I glanced down the darkened hallway. The music from the dance was faint as a lullaby.
“Should we go back?” he asked, following the direction of my gaze.
“Why?” I was frowning up at him as though he’d proposed a barefoot walk over broken glass. My reaction seemed to please him. Bending forward, he brushed his lips against my earlobe, making me shiver.
The entire situation felt dream-like, free from the rules of ordinary life, so I let myself act without thinking, stretching up on my toes to kiss his neck, and then his ear. His hands tightened at my waist, which I took to mean I was doing it right.
I stepped back just far enough to see his face, my palms resting on either side of his shirt buttons. “Alex.”
“Merrily.”
We looked at each other for a long moment, not quite smiling. When he kissed me again, I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck, both to hold him in place and because I’d secretly wanted to touch his hair forever. It was silkier than I’d imagined, the texture softer than mine.
Aha, said a distant part of my brain.Sothisis why people make a big deal out of kissing. It was like the first sip of a milkshake, dizzyingly sweet and delicious in a way that made you want to keep drinking forever.
We were both breathing unevenly when we broke apart. He leaned his forehead against mine.
“Is it always like that?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Like if I kissed someone else—”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Good.”
“It was, wasn’t it? Good, I mean.”
“It was fine.”
“Fine?” I repeated, outraged. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all. Why, did you have any doubt? I knew the two of us would be a solid B-plus.”
I shoved his shoulder.
“Ow.” He rubbed that spot. “You have to leave something to aspire to, Merrily. For next time.”
