Page 63 of Personal Foul

I don’t, though. Instead I curl my fingers into my palm, not quite tightly enough to be a fist, but enough to remind me to keep my hands to myself.

She sighs, looking at her phone again, chewing on her lower lip as though she’s considering my offer. But she shakes her head. “Not this time.”

As disappointed as I am that she’s leaving, that makes it sound like there’ll be a next time. And that gives me hope, at least. “Tomorrow?”

Looking up again, her face lit up with a smile, though she’s still biting her lip, she shrugs. “Sure. If you really want me to.”

“I do. Bring whatever homework you need. We can have dinner. Study. Watch something if there’s time. It’ll be easy and relaxing. And I’ll talk to my mom and see if she has any suggestions on what to do to get your account freed up for you.”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I know,” I butt in, not letting her finish her protest. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

Her eyes narrow, suspicion clouding her features. “Why?”

That’s a good question, to be honest. I’m not sure I have a good answer even for myself. “Let’s just say it’s the least I can do to make up for how I treated you before.”

She examines my face a moment longer, then she relaxes, the suspicion clearing as she nods. “Alright. I’ll accept that.”

I walk her to my front door, pausing as she gathers her bag from where she left it in the kitchen. “Do you want me to pick you up tomorrow? That way you don’t have to pay for street parking.”

She starts to shake her head, then stops herself with a chuckle. “You know what? That would actually be helpful. Gotta save money where I can now, right?”

“Right.” And if it gives me an excuse to spend more time with her … Well, I certainly won’t complain about that. “Do you know what you’re going to do about rent, though?”

“My sister’s going to help me out this month. Hopefully by next month, I’ll have access to my account again. And then it’ll be summer break …” She shrugs.

“Right. Well, if for some reason you need a place to crash …” I gesture at my apartment behind me, half expecting her to laugh me off again.

But instead, she looks over my shoulder as though she’s considering it. She pats me on the chest. “Thanks, Dylan,” she says quietly.

We’re so close, her face upturned, lips parted, and I just can’t help myself. Bending my head, I capture her lips with mine.

She makes a soft sound that I register as a protest, so I pull away, but I barely break contact before her hand is on the back of my neck, pulling my mouth to hers again. And that’s all the encouragement I need. My arm snakes around her back, tugging her closer, pressing my body against hers.

Dropping her bag, she wraps both arms around me, responding to my kiss like she’s as hungry for this as I am. Her lips part when I trace them with my tongue, inviting me to delve inside and find hers. My hands roam her back, down to her ass, which I grip and knead.

She hitches her leg over my hip, and I’m about done. Picking her up, I pin her against the door, lifting her high enough that I can kiss a line down her throat. Her head falls back, thunking softly against the door, her chest heaving beneath me.

“I should go,” she rasps.

“Stay.” It sounds like a command, but it’s more of a plea than anything.

Her head lolls to one side, and I recapture her mouth. But she breaks the kiss too quickly for my liking, shaking her head. “My meter’s about to run out.”

“I’ll pay for it.”

She chuckles, giving me another quick kiss, her once tense body going slack, making it harder to hold her up, so I let her slide back down to the floor. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, her lips slightly swollen, her face flushed. I know she’s as affected as I am, but I guess she has more willpower.

Maybe I don’t deserve that willpower award after all.

“Alright,” I murmur, stepping back to give her room to open the door. But once she does, I catch her around the waist again for one last kiss. “Text me when you’re done for the day, and I’ll come get you. We can pick up dinner on the way home.”

She gives me a wide, clear smile. “Sounds good.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Charity

---