Page 155 of Stick It
“Sounds like you’ve got a good family.”
“Yeah, they are pretty great.” Turning his head, his phone is forgotten as he asks, “What about you? You mentioned your dad, but what about your mom?”
I swallow roughly, unable to meet his piercing stare. I’m not used to having Finn’s undivided attention for longer than a quick, desperate kiss, and I’m discovering it can be as heavy and intense as Griffin’s, despite his mischievous, lighthearted personality.
“My family used to be pretty great too,” I tell him, allowing myself to soak in those memories for a moment. To remember the warmth of Dad’s smile, the comfort of Mom’s hugs. “Since Dad died, she’s been drowning in grief. I barely— She never takes my calls nowadays.” I shake my head. “I don’t even remember the last time I spoke to her.”
Rolling onto his side, Finn shuffles over on the bed, eliminating any space between us. The heat of his body seeps into mine, relaxing the muscles and calming the flurry of stress over my mother.
Withhis head propped in his hand, his elbow digging into the pillow, he reaches over. My hands are clasped on top of the bare skin of my abdomen, above my leggings, and he rests his on top, the heat suffusing my skin.
“I can’t imagine what your mom is going through—what you’vebothendured. The agony of losing a parent. Of losing the other half of your soul.”
That’s precisely what my dad was to my mom. What my mom was to my dad. They were two halves of one soul, and without one another, my mother is left adrift. Lost. Unable to anchor herself to stable ground.
Truthfully, I’m not sure she’ll ever find her way again. Although I’m not ready yet to say those words aloud. To face that grim reality.
A soft, gentle touch down the side of my face and neck draws me out of my thoughts, and my gaze connects with Finn’s brilliant green one. I swear his eyes are the color of grass on a summer’s day. Of tree leaves and open fields, with the flecks of gold sunshine reflecting off their surface. I could get lost in those eyes. In the heat of summer. In the hope of better, brighter days.
“I already know my life would be emptier without you in it,” he murmurs, voice soft and low, caressing like silk over my skin. “You’ve consumed me from the second I opened the door to you standing on my porch, all dark, wavy hair and hypnotizing eyes, wearing those little shorts that showed off those long, lean legs of yours, and your cute-as-hell Converse.” He flashes me a cheeky grin before growing more serious. His eyes flash with some emotion I can’t decipher, something sharp and soul deep. Goosebumps ripple along my arms when he strokes the back of my hands.
“Try as I might, I couldn’t stay away. I was drawn into your orbit, no matter how hard I tried to resist.” He pauses, a slight quirk of his lips drawing my eyes to his mouth. “Although,admittedly, I didn’t try as hard as I could have. Even though I felt like it was wrong to give in, every time I laid eyes on you, I’d tell myself just one more. One more touch. One more kiss.” He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’d tell myself it was the last time, then I’d see you again and know I’d been fooling myself. There could never be alast time. When it comes to you, I’ll always want more.”
At some point, his hand drifted to the bare skin of my abdomen, his fingers trailing a tantalizing path. Too caught up in his vulnerable declaration, I hadn’t noticed, but now my breath hitches.
His face lowers, breath fanning over my flushed skin. My pulse thunders, and I find myself suddenly starved for Finn’s touch. Is it crazy of me to admit that I’ve missed his desperate, rogue kisses?
“You have no idea how badly I want to kiss you.”
I can feel my breasts straining against the confines of my bra, nipples pebbling in a cry for his attention. Licking my suddenly dry lips, my voice comes out husky and wanton. “So why haven’t you?”
Dear God, man. Kiss me already.
A nearly imperceptible groan rumbles through him—agonized. His features pinch, the restraint palpable in the air between us before he blows out a breath. Collapsing backward, the whole bed bounces, the tension snapping like a band between us.
I’m still reeling, trying to process why his lips aren’t on mine, my hands in his hair, and our bodies pressed together, when he speaks. “I can’t.”
I must react physically to his words, because he’s leaning over me in the next second, hand on my face, drawing my eyes to his. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, looking pained. “Everything between us to date has been me kissing you.”
“So you want me to kissyou?” I question.
One side of his lips twitches. “Me kissing you and then walking away,” he expands. “But secret, impulsive kisses aren’t what I want. They aren’tallthat I want,” he clarifies at my confused expression. Closing his eyes, he blows out a frustrated breath before muttering, “I’m not explaining this very well.”
Focusing back on me, he tries again. “I’m trying to make up for being an ass to you,” he states plainly. “But more than that, I need you to know without a shadow of a doubt that I’m interested in you for more than furtive make-out sessions.” A softness enters his gaze as it roams over my face. “I want to chill out together while we watch stupid YouTube videos. I want to tell you about my family, even introduce you one day. I want you to feel safe enough to open up about your mom.”
Brushing his fingers through my hair in a move that presses his body more thoroughly against mine and brings his face close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in his irises, he adds, “It’s not solely your body I want, Dylan. It’syou—all of you. It’s quiet moments and inside jokes. Waking up beside you and having comfortable dinners where we don’t feel the need to fill the silence. It’s game days and lazy Sundays. The highs and lows. The wins and the losses.”
“It’s a relationship you want.” The words come out oddly breathless, but I can’t seem to get air into my lungs.
“It is,” he states resolutely. “Never been in one before, so I can’t promise to be very good at it, but a relationship with you isexactlywhat I want.”
“You’ve…” I blink up at him in shock. “You’ve never been in a relationship before? Not even when you were eleven and did the whole ‘Will you be my boyfriend? Will you be my girlfriend?’But by the end of recess, you’d both gone your separate ways, and the next day you were dating some other girl on the playground?”
Mirth dances in his eyes. “Is that what you did?” he teases. “Did some tween douche break your heart in the school yard? Need me to beat him up for you?”
“Shut up.” I shove at his shoulder, shaking my head even as a smile blooms across my face.
Bringing his hand to my face, he grasps my chin between his fingers and drags my attention back to him. His expression has grown stoic, vulnerable. “Be mine, Hellion.”
