“Having fun, Cupcake?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he answered lightly, and I was suddenly very glad we were far enough away from the music that we didn’t need to yell. I loved the sexy little rasp in his voice when he was speaking softly. “Maybe not as much fun as some people,” he added, jerking his chin over to where everyone had parked. There were two guys dry humping, practically fucking, on the hood of a car. I couldn’t tell if I knew either of them.
Clearing my throat, I shifted so my back was to them. That was the last thing I needed in my line of sight, when Aspen already had me popping a boner without even trying.
“That does look fun,” I commented, tilting my head in acknowledgment. He chuckled, and took another sip of soda. It could have been awkward, standing there remarking on two guys about to blow their loads in such close proximity to us, but it was weirdly natural, just being there with him. And for once, it seemed like the feeling was mutual.
“Did you go to a lot of parties in high school?” I wondered, after a comfortable stretch of silence. On one side of us, there was music and laughter and cheers from the crowd. On the other side, toward the barn, there was a soft breeze rustling through the cornstalks and the chirp of crickets.
He snorted, giving me an odd look. “No.”
“Really?” I was surprised. “Why not?”
“I wasn’t really invited to parties.”
The brief flash of unhappiness on his face was enough to make my stomach muscles clench.
“I would have invited you,” I offered quickly, hoping to get rid of it.
He stared at me for a few moments, thoughtfully.
“No, you wouldn’t have,” he finally said. “But that’s fine.”
He said it so matter-of-factly, and so neutrally, that I felt like I couldn’t argue. I didn’t really want to think about if he was right or not. He wouldn’t have fit in with the people I’d known at the elite private school I’d attended, but… I liked him so much. I was pretty sure that gut punch of attraction I’d experienced meeting him would have happened no matter what.
“Did you see Kelani’s outfit?” I asked, after another long period of quiet. To my relief, he grinned a little, nodding.
“Yeah, I think she got ready with Arie and Che. They definitely went all out.” They’d all painted their nails with neon glowing polish, and had brushed colorful makeup onto their eyes and cheeks.
“You should have put that glowy stuff on your nails,” I told him, reaching out to where his hand was hanging at his side and gently lifting it up so the light reflected off his usual black nail polish.
He chuckled a little, but didn’t pull his hand back for a few seconds. When he did, it was careless, like he was just returning it to its natural resting place. Not like he’d been eager to break the contact between us.
“Not my style.”
“Yeah, I get that,” I told him, even though the mystery of the ultra-cutesy tattoos was still unsolved. I wasn’t going to push my luck and ask about them now. “Too cute and happy for edgy little emo boys, right?”
“I’m not cute and happy?” He questioned, a mock surprise coloring his voice. He didn’t sound offended in the least, like the idea that he wasn’t cute was just a given that didn’t even need to be confirmed.
But I hadn’t meant it that way. He wasn’tthatkind of cute, with the fluttering eyelashes and coy remarks. He was hot and intense. The way his eyes could smolder sometimes, it made me feel like I was burning alive.
“I didn’t say that,” I responded quickly, and he ran his tongue around his teeth, glancing up toward the starlit sky. “You’re not cute. I mean, youare, but you’re more than that. Cute doesn’t even start to cover it.”
“You know, I can never tell when you’re fucking with me or when you’re being serious,” he remarked, and my eyebrows drew together.
“You think I’m fucking with you?” I asked. The incredulous expression on his face mirrored my own feelings. “I’m not. Seriously.”
He looked thoughtful for a few seconds, but ultimately shook his head, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. “No, I know you’re not doing it on purpose or whatever. It’s just funny to you. I get that. It’s fine.”
“I’m not trying to be funny,” I insisted. “Really.”
It was weird how he was like that with me. As far as I could tell from seeing him interact with other people, he wasn’t insecure, and didn’t suffer from self esteem issues. So why was he so hesitant to take me seriously when I was trying to give him a compliment? Was Ithatmuch of a jerkoff?
As he continued to stare at me with those slightly cautious eyes, I wondered how to make my feelings clear. I didn’t want him to think I was being facetious about how attractive I found him, but I also didn’t want to freak him out with the depth of just how into him I was. My instincts told me that Aspen Davis, while fearless in other aspects of life, could definitely be skittish about that kind of thing. But what was I supposed to do?Nottry to get with him? I liked him too much to just ignore my feelings.
I opted for something safe and casual, and hoped he would believe me. It was true I was always joking around about the sexual tension between us, and saying flirty things to annoy him. But I’d never considered that he actually thought I was kidding.
“You look really good, you know.”
