“You have to hear this!”
I don’t hear a single word of whatever funny story is being recounted, but I must chuckle at the right time, because Nate is bursting into laughter next to my ear. I couldn’t care less if I went deaf right there.
Because just like these past two weeks, his hair is tousled and free of gel, and tickling my neck.
I’m itching to touch, to feel whether it’s as soft as it looks. I imagine how I’d brush it off of his forehead, maybe curl a strand around my fingers as I—
As I bang my head against the wall.
Because that’s idiotic. I’m not into Nate! But when his green eyes, so bright behind his glasses, find me, I feel like I need to dive into Lake Champlain to cool off.
Once he’s settled down again, I pat his back.
“Let’s get you some water,” I suggest, making extra sure that I’m keeping an appropriate distance, even as I lean down to stage-whisper into his ear. I still catch a whiff of his scent.
God, he even smells differently. Not like he switched his shampoo, but there’s something else under it—crisp and cold like a winter morning. It’s a stark contrast to the pungent stench of pumpkin spice beer, Jell-o shots, and the sweat of far too many bodies crammed into the same space.
It makes me want to bury my nose in his neck and inhale deeply.
Thankfully the kitchen is empty once we get there, which I ascribe to the huge buffet in the living room that’s piled with every Halloween-themed snack imaginable.
I maneuver us inside and close the door to shut out the noise. Leaning my drunk best friend against the counter, I go to find aglass, rinse it, and then fill it with tap water before holding it out to Nate.
He’s bobbing his head along to the music that’s playing loudly over the speakers. Bits of the lyrics make it through the closed door into the kitchen. I don’t bother to try and make them out, but Nate’s lips move along.
“Drink it,” I tell him when he just blinks at the glass. Nate’s green eyes narrow.
“You drink it!” he huffs back, and I sigh but take a sip, then offer it to him again.
“See? Not poisoned.”
“Oh...okay then.” This time he takes it, though his fingers curl around mine as well. I flinch and almost drop the glass.
Nate empties the water in a long drag.
I watch as his throat bobs, staring for a bit too long as his lips come away from the edge of the glass shiny and wet and—fuck, he’s caught me.
He raises his brows and tilts his head but doesn’t say anything, letting me believe I might have gotten away with it. He’s drunk after all.
“Better now?” I ask, rubbing the back of my neck. I can feel heat rise to my cheeks.
What the fuck is wrong with me?! I can’t even blame the alcohol, because I didn’t finish the one plastic cup of beer that was shoved at me. To make matters worse, Nate keeps looking at me like I’m the Wordle and he’s on his last try.
“I dunno,” he finally says, leaning forward until he’s all the way inside my personal space, close enough that I can smell the beer and sweetness lingering on his breath. This way, I could grow to like it.
“Areyoubetter?”
I blink at his nonsensical question. “I…yeah, I’m good, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Dunno, you seem kinda…” he trails off, and even if I couldn’t care less about the rest of the sentence, I’m spellbound, watching his mouth form the next word more than I actually hear it, feeling it as Nate’s lips just barely brush against my own, “bothered.”
It short-circuits my brain, because the next thing I know, I’m pushing him against the counter, kissing him. My hands are finally in his hair, and it’s as soft as I imagined. The blond strands are silky smooth under my fingers, his lips warm against mine. There’s little finesse in the way I press my mouth against Nate’s, but I make up for it with urgency.
For a terrifying moment he doesn’t do anything, but as I run my tongue along his bottom lip, he shudders, and finally his lips part.
The taste of pumpkin spice beer fills my mouth as I lick into Nate’s. I groan softly at the warmth and underlying taste of him that’s so much more intoxicating than any alcohol.
A sharp pain pulls me to my senses. I flinch back. My lower lip throbs where Nate bit me.
