Page 52 of Running With Lions

“Maybe.”

They’re so close, their foreheads are a sliver away from touching. Raindrops are translucent pearls on the ends of Emir’s eyelashes. Sebastian’s faint breaths are rough. His chest squeezes tight at the curl of Emir’s smirk.Abandon ship!blares in his mind, but he can’t.

Their hips press together. Emir flushes; the world around them blurs. Sebastian has no idea why he’s leaning back until the light pressure of Emir’s thumb registers. It traces lazy circles on the nape of his neck. Sebastian bites his lip, unsure.

And then, Emir’s breath hitches and that’s all it takes.

It just happens.

This kiss is nothing like the first one. It’s mutual. It’s deliberate. Emir pushes as much as Sebastian pulls. It’s needy. Wet mouths move as if there’s not a second to lose. They’ll never be able to dance around this kiss. Sebastian likes that; he’s also half panicked over it.

Emir makes a choked noise. He presses farther in, as if he’s never been kissed this perfectly, and Sebastian’s brain goes offline.

Well, no, he has one very clear thought:Emir Shah, Emir Shah,moreEmir Shah.

With his thumb at Emir’s jaw, Sebastian takes his time. He’s never kissed a boy.Holy shit,Sebastian is kissing his first boy, and it’s Emir Shah.

Emir’s mouth is something Sebastian needs more of. Sam was a lazy kisser; her mouth was flavored by pink bubblegum. They shared nice, but emotionless, kisses. Emir’s different. He tastes bitter and cold from the rain.

A slip of tongue catches Sebastian off guard, but he goes with it. His palm is heated by Emir’s cheek.

Emir jerks back, mumbling, “What are you doing, Bastian?”

Rain sticks Sebastian’s eyelashes together when he blinks. He shrugs, hand still on Emir’s cheek. He says, softly, “WhatIwant.”

It’s difficult to read Emir’s expression with their foreheads pressed together. Sebastian sees more shock than anger, but he’s prepared for Emir to push him away or punch him. His ego will be bruised, but Sebastian can take it.

Hell, what are the chances I’m Emir’s type?

“I…” Black pupils expand, shrinking gray irises. Emir surges forward, kissing Sebastian again.

“Okayyeah,” Sebastian mumbles against Emir’s mouth. He succumbs to the hunger in his belly. He grabs Emir’s hoodie and drags him closer. His thigh fits between them, and Emir uses it like a cat rubbing against a post to scratch an itch. Sebastian is okay with that.

Rain pounds over them. It mutes the weird noises Sebastian makes, sparing him embarrassment. He’ll revisit how whiny he is while kissing at a later date.Much later.Right now, Emir’s tongue explores his teeth, while his own hands examine the lean-meets-muscle of Emir’s body. Nothing will ever make him pull away.

Of course, he’ssowrong.

At first, it’s just a whoop. Then they hear a howl, voices getting louder and closer.

Emir jerks away, pushing Sebastian back with a newfound force.

“What the—” Sebastian stumbles; his eyes are moon-sized.

Emir scrubs the back of his hand over his mouth.

The team comes into focus. The rain turns to a light mist, but Sebastian’s certain no one saw them kissing. He swallows whatever lump is caught at the back of his throat when he spots Mason leading the charge.

Emir shifts farther away.

“Who doesn’t love a good practice in the rain?” Mason, with wolfish eyes, rubs his hands together.

Jack elbows him. “Let’s see what these freshmen are made of.”

“They’re all better than you,” Hunter says. The gray, overcast sky washes out his usually ochre skin. Behind him, the players crow.

The team’s arrival kicks Sebastian in the teeth. If he wants to be captain, he can’t go around making out with teammates.

“Boys, scrimmage!” Coach Patrick blows his whistle. “Hughes, Drews, pick your squads!”

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