Page 12 of Summer of the Boy

Open.

Close.

“You want me to kiss you?” he asks, not totally shy. More shy-surprised.

“Only if you want to.” I reach out to tug lightly on his shirt sleeve in an effort to ease some of his hesitance and awkwardness.

Open.

It doesn’t work. “I won’t be very good,” he tells me, and it sounds a little bit shy-sad.

Close.

“How do you know if you don’t try? My ex, the guy from school, said I wasn’t any good. That’s why he broke up with me last year. So maybe you won’t like kissingme.”

Admittedly, my dipwad ex wasn’t talking about a lip lock. Or hand jobs… or blowies. Mainly, he was talking about me not being any good as a boyfriend because I refused to let him stick anything more than a finger up my ass while we made out. But Ridley doesn’t need to know that.

Rid’s ears light up today not a little pink, but a bright red.

“I’ll like kissing you,” he insists and says it with as much certainty as I’ve ever heard come from him in the time we’ve been together.Did I just think been together? I mean, known each other.The time we’ve known each other.

“Where do you want to put your hands?”

“Can I touch your face?” On my nod to the affirmative, he places one heated hand against my cheek. “Can I touch your waist?” He asks softer, but with more confidence.

I nod again.

He positions his other hand fisting my shirt, justabovemy waist, actually. The enormousness of the moment hits me full-on in the chest. My knees turn liquid. My heart thumps hard and rhythmically. Sweat,yes sweat, speckles my forehead.

Oh man, I’m about to kiss Ridley McAllister.

The thing I’ve craved every day for weeks is about to become a reality.

I grip the T-shirt at each of his hips to avoid touching his skin. My palms are clammy and I don’t want him to know. I’m supposed to be the experienced one. I don’t want him to know how nervous and excited he makes me. How I’ve been dreaming of this moment since that day in front of the employees-only trailer at his work.

He cocks his head to the right and begins a slow descent. I counter with a head tilt to the left. A second goes by before his soft lips press against mine. From that first touch, I think my heart stops beating. Those hard, rhythmic thumps stop altogether, then electroshock themselves right back again. Much to my chagrin, the kiss goes quick, he pulls back just a hair and I’m scared he’s going to end it already. Yes,scared.

Ridley surprises me though, darting out the tip of his tongue, separating my lips. “I want to taste you,” he whispers against them, giving a little lick.

And I let him. Even tasting him back, because it’s Rid and I think I want everything with this man.

His actions get bolder the harder our lips move—devouring one another, and he drops the fist of fabric to glide his hand from just above my waist to cup my ass, pressing us tighter together. My hands are no longer clammy. Just eager to touch him.

While he holds my ass, I kind of paw at the man, even drawing this low keening from the back of my throat because with his mouth pressed to mine, it’s almost painful it’s so good. I’ve had my share of kisses. Never has one affected me the way his does. I may only be nineteen, but I can honestly say it’s the best kiss I’ve ever had in my life.

When he finally pulls away, we both pant heavily, flushed skin, the works. Oh, and I’m turned right the hell on. So much, I immediately miss his lips.

“So… are you my boyfriend now?”

“Do you want me to be your boyfriend?” I ask. He bites his lip. Ears bright red again. But no eye contact.

“Yes.”

“Well, you have to ask me then. Look at me and ask me to be your boyfriend.”

Open. Close.

Open. Close.

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