“No, I’m just around the corner.”
I have to keep touching her, and I am
“Can I have your number?” I ask, trying to recall the last time I actually had to ask a girl. Probably never, and even if I did, I sure as hell never called them. But she’s leaving and I’m panicking.
“No, but can I have yours?” she counters and smiles confidently up at me. Fuck, I’ll bet that smile gets her anything she wants.
I’m puzzled as to why she won’t give up her number, but I realize I have to go slow with this one. ‘Approach with Caution’ should be taped across her chest. Wait… screw that. Nobody better be touching that chest, except for me.
She continues smiling at me while I give her a half-cocked, questioning look as if to say, ‘What are you up to?’ I decide to let her have her way, reaching behind her into the truck to grab my notebook that has a pen tucked inside the metal spiral. She watches as I write my seven digits onto the lined paper and then tear it from the binding.
After I fold it into a small square, I think of another way I can touch her. Pathetic, I know. She’s still glancing at my hands holding the paper when I reach down and slowly slide it into her front jeans pocket, feeling the heat of her skin through the fabric.
I instantly cup her face firmly in between my hands, because I need her full attention. “You don’t get to ditch me. I want to see you again.” I hope that the sincerity of my statement is getting through to those beautiful brown eyes.
“I won’t,” she whispers back.
I know that I must have a cocky grin on my face, but damn it’s nice to know how much I seem to affect her. “Well, I guess I’ll be the pitiful guy at home, waiting for a girl to call him,” I say, winking. “Bye, Audrey.”
She needs to walk away now before I kiss her. If I do, I’ll kiss her so hard her lips will bruise. She needs to walk away, but instead, she’s just staring at me with that hopeful look on her face. Then all at once, the look dies and she says, “Bye, Jace.”
Was she hoping that I would kiss her too? Before she can get out of arm’s reach, I pull her back in front of me. I need to know that I’ll see her again. “You know that party Cole West throws every year before school starts?” I ask, throwing out the first thing I can think of.
She doesn’t say anything for a long time, and I start to think about what I asked. It doesn’t seem like a hard question. Everyone knows about Cole’s parties. People in town gossip about them for weeks afterward. Every August around this time, his parents fly up to DC for business purposes and that giant house of his just begs for a party. I can picture Audrey now, wearing a bikini and all wet from swimming. Shit, she needs to answer me so I can divert my attention away from thoughts of tiny bikinis, water, and her body. She nods her head.
“You’ll be there tonight, right?”
“Uh… if you want me to,” she replies.
“I want you… there.” I mostly just want her, but I also want her at that party with me.
“Okay, I’ll come. Where is it?”
This girl is hard to comprehend. Cole’s parties never change their venue. I cock my eyebrow up at her and ask, “You’ve never been?” When she shakes her head, I’m floored. Cole is everybody’s friend, he knows no stranger. How has he missed this one? And thank God he has, because she might have been the one exception to the bro-code of not hooking up with your buddies’ girls, current or past. “It’s at Cole’s house, which is the biggest one on Lincoln Court. You can’t miss it.” It’s a monstrosity. Way too big for three people.
For a fraction of a second, I see her face fall, but she quickly picks it back up and says, “Wow, okay… I’ll be there tonight.”
I can tell she’s uncomfortable about something and that she’s only agreeing to go because I want her to. Problem is, this girl even looks cute when she’s uncomfortable. I can’t hold out any longer. I reach out and situate her bag of groceries on the passenger seat again. Then before she even realizes what’s happening, I grab her arms and pin her against the side of the truck.
I can feel her heart beating wildly against my chest, so I lean down and press my lips against hers. Damn, she’s sweet. I shouldn’t have started this, because how the hell can I stop kissing a mouth that tastes like honey? With a little bit of persuasion, I coax her lips open and instantly my tongue is slowly dancing with hers. I still have her arms in a tight grasp against the truck, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She’s letting me control this.
My right hand slides away from her arm and over her waist, and I have to hold on tightly, afraid this enchantress will disappear. When my other hand leaves her arm, she instantly laces her fingers through my hair, which pulls a moan from my mouth. Our kiss deepens, both of us needing more. Then,
After a couple of heated beats, I realize that I’m about to rip this girl’s clothes off in the middle of the parking lot. My mom might be the coolest parent ever, but she would kill me if she heard about this from the old lady gossip in this town. So reluctantly, I break the kiss. Her eyes remain closed and she’s trying to catch her breath, as am I. Who knew making out could be so damn hot?
“Holy hell…” I breathe.
“Wow…” she says in the same moment.
“You’ll be there tonight.” It’s not a question anymore.
She nods her head and I hand her back the groceries. Without another word, I watch as she walks away carrying her paper bag, even though everything within me is saying she shouldn’t go. Call it the ‘White Knight Syndrome,’ but there’s just something about a beautiful damsel in distress, and I sure as hell want to be the one to save her.
- Two -
When I sit down on the city bus, I finally get a chance to breathe in and out. How did a simple trip to the grocery store just rock my world off its axis? Did Jace really exist, or was he purely made up of too many library- loaned romance novels?
If I had a best friend, I would be running to her right now to tell her everything. But I don’t, so I’ll just have to replay that make-out scene over and over in my head. Lord knows it’ll never get old. Maybe I’ll sneak over to Mrs. Thomas’ to call my cousin, Kennedy, who lives in Connecticut. We’ve been getting closer these last couple of years, and she always tells me she can’t wait until I get my own phone so she can call whenever she wants.
I could use another girl’s perspective, since I’m still really confused about the whole incident. One minute he’s taking me to coffee because he feels bad about ruining my groceries, and the next he’s pinning me up against his truck and owning me. I’ve kissed plenty of guys. It’s what you do when you’re bored out here; you mess around and get into trouble. But I can definitely say that I have never been kissed like
I can’t even call that a kiss because it was on a whole other level. He made me forget about everything… where I was, where I’m from, and even where he’s from. It was just my lips and his, dueling for more. I don’t know what came over me when I lifted my leg, but that moan he made spurred me on.
At the thought of my groceries, I quickly grab the bag from the seat next to me and glance inside. Shit! No! Damn, why hadn’t I been more specific? First of all, the whiskey is some top-shelf brand that I know cost about seven-times more than the cheap one I always buy my dad. The milk is organic, the spaghetti is whole-wheat, the peanut butter has added omega-3s, and to make matters even worse, the ramen is the low-sodium kind. This
