“Can things get weirder than this?” she asks, stepping a little closer.
I hope to hell things can get weirder. I hope they can get downright awkward and uncomfortable, like maybe as she searches for her underwear on my bedroom floor later tonight.
Taking a deep breath, I give her the best answer I can. “I’m here because I couldn’t go to UGA after what happened. You blew me off and I was hurt too. I didn’t want to see you on campus, on the arm of some guy I might accidentally murder with my bare hands.” Kind of like I almost did Taite.
She cocks her head. “How’s that working out for you?”
“Not well.” I laugh uneasily. “Okay, my turn.”
She folds her arms, as if she’s trying to hold her secrets in, and I’m starting to like this game. A few girls giggling loudly behind me stumble past us into the club, and Layla smirks and raises an eyebrow at them. I’m pretty sure one of them checked me out. I wasn’t playing around earlier. Her blatant jealousy has my dick throbbing. But the answer to my next question will probably function to solve that problem.
“So lay it on me. Who ended up being your first kiss?”Please be someone I don’t know.I only had two friends, if you could call them that, in Hope Springs—Cam and DW. If it was one of them, I’ll be using my next long weekend to drive to Georgia and kick some ass.
Layla shakes her head, and for a second I think she’s just refusing, holding out on me. “We should probably get back in there before Corin sends a search party.”
“Whoa. I answered your question. All of them actually. So let me have it. I promise not to go looking for him.” I’m a dick, because that’s not entirely true and deep down I’m kind of hoping whoever it was sucked at it.
But then her cheeks go pink and hope runs wildfire rampant in my chest. She shakes her head again, biting her lip as her eyes say the one thing I want to hear. She’s never been kissed. My eyes zero in on her perfect untouched mouth. I reach out, using my thumb to pull her full bottom lip from between her teeth. “No one?”
She shrugs and I force myself to pull my hand from her mouth. She’s back to wearing that same tentative, guarded expression, and I’m feeling the screwed up combination of sheer joy at the fact that her mouth is still unclaimed and a significant degree of guilt for all the dirty thoughts I’ve been having for a girl who’s never even kissed a guy. Well, that part’s easy enough to fix.
“Don’t go running on me now, Layla Flaherty,” I say, giving into the urge to pull her to me. She feels so damn good in my hands, soft and firm at the same time. “Not yet.”
“Landen,” she breathes, placing her delicate hands on my chest but not making an effort to push. Or maybe I’m too full of myself to feel if she pushes. “Stop. We’re in public.”
Uh, yeah. And I was grinding all up on her ass inpublica few minutes ago, but this is making her uncomfortable? Glancing around, I see a break between the club and the next building over so I pull her into it. “This better?”
“Um.” She’s breathing harder, and the space between the two brick buildings is so tight her chest is pressing against mine.
“Tell me what you want,” I demand, pulling her two wrists into one of my hands. I lift them above her head so I can feel her body on mine without our hands in the way.
“I want…” She pauses to swallow, and I don’t know why I need her to ask for it…but I do. I need to know that this is what she wants. That I’m the one she wants. “I want to have fun, to stop worrying and feeling guilty all the time just for being alive.”
Okay, well that wasn’t exactly the response I was hoping for, but beggars can’t be choosers. “And how should we go about making that happen? Specifically,” I clarify, letting my lips rest just a few inches from hers. I can feel her breath on my mouth. “Tell me what I can do to help.”
Her little pink tongue swipes her lips, coming so close to my own I can practically taste her, and I nearly come undone right then and there. “You should kiss me.”
I move in closer, but only a tiny bit. “And why would I do that?”
Her voice is so low I have to lean in to hear her clearly. “Because you want to. Because I’ve been waiting for a very long time. Because you can.”
Her words fill me with heat and need. I want so much more than to kiss her. But I’m not going to get greedy here and risk losing her all over again. My plan to make her jealous earlier was just a ploy to get her to admit she still wants me because I still want her. I’m pretty positive I’ll always want her. So now this has to be the best damn kiss two people ever shared in the history of kissing because I need her to want it again and again.
Tension builds in my chest at the thought of finally kissing Layla Flaherty, and I’m a little afraid of screwing up her first kiss. But I owe it to her. It should’ve happened a long time ago.
“Someone’s overthinking things,” she whispers against my lips, and I twitch with anticipation and nostalgia.
It’s the exact phrase I used to use on her when she’d go off in her head. She remembers. Dammit, I’m losing control. I tighten my grip on her wrists and run my nose down her cheek. I place a soft kiss on her earlobe and feel her body sag forward as her legs buckle beneath her.
Using my other arm to hold her around the waist and keep her vertical, I whisper, “Here? Is this where you want me to kiss you?”
Her breath comes in quick gasps, and she shakes her head no. So I let my lips skim the side of her face and holy hell, she even tastes like peaches. And I should definitely not be thinking about tasting her, but a torrent of images unleashes itself. I know I’m gripping her too hard, but she doesn’t complain.
I press myself against her and place a chaste kiss on her cheek. “Here?” I ask, doing my best to feign innocence.
“Uh uh,” she groans, and I brush my face against hers until our lips are touching.
“Here?”