Page 67 of Give Me Love

“You smell so good,” I say.

“It’s lotion,” she replies, sounding thrown off.

“Nah, that’s you.”

She laughs and puts her hands on my shoulders. I wish this was a sign she was going to climb on my lap, but she pushes away from me. “You are drunk,” she says, walking around the bed.

Slightly disappointed, I stand and unbutton my jeans.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“I’m not sleeping in my pants.”

She doesn’t respond but puts her knee on the mattress. My eyes are adjusting to the dark, and the orange streetlamps outside help so I can see her. She looks apprehensive, but I ignore it and take my pants off. I’m in nothing but briefs now, and I bet she’s got nothing on but panties under that shirt. This is going to be interesting.

“Don’t overthink this,” I say. “We’re just going to sleep.”

She licks her lips.

“And don’t do that.”

“What?” she asks, moving the comforter back more.

“Lick your lips.”

I see her grin. “Sorry.” She lies down, and I walk over and climb in beside her. I feel her warmth, and I want so badly to touch her, to fuck her. But I don’t want her to think that’s the only reason I came over.

We lie still. She’s turned away from me, and I can see the curve of her body under the covers. I can’t let this night go by and at least not touch her, so I act like it’s a natural thing to do and I reach around and grab her by the waist. She stills as I bring her closer to me, breathing in this intoxicating scent she has.

“Good night,” I whisper.

“Good night,” she replies. She brings her hand up and puts it over mine, and moments later I feel her relax against me.

I’m not sure if it’s from this intoxicating woman or the alcohol swimming in my veins, but within minutes I’m out.

ChapterEleven

Kathrine

During the summer, Atlanta gifts us with free concerts. It’s something to do and a way to get out of the apartment, even if it’s a thousand and two degrees out and pointless to wear makeup. I’m in a tank top and denim overall shorts with a pair of white Chucks on my feet. Sweat glides down my back as smoothly as a high-speed bullet train and Claire’s brought a battery-operated fan to help. She sprays the mist bottle on us both as Austin walks back over with water bottles and a beer for himself.

We’ve been here for a good while now, and I’m ready to grab a booth in a cool restaurant and have a drink besides water.

“Burgers and fries or pizza and wings?” Austin asks.

“Both sound very healthy.” Claire rolls her eyes.

“Sorry. I’m not into lettuce like you, rabbit.” Austin takes a swig from his cup, and foam covers his top lip.

“You’re going to look like a pig if you keep eating like one,” she retorts.

“I think I look just fine.” Even in this heat, Austin wears a black shirt and he lifts it to show off his abs. This time I roll my eyes.

“Gross,” Claire says, but I see the pink in her cheeks, and I know it’s not from Georgia summer.

“You know you like it,” Austin replies.

“Wipe the foam off your lip, pig.”

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