Page 78 of The Truth About You and Me
I continue following the letters with my fingers, a smile on my lips.
You smell like lemon.
‘Concentrate, Jack,’ but I’m smiling.
I take his finger over the ‘t’. There is a spark, a burst of excitement from Jack’s voice in my head.
Wait was that a ‘t’?
‘Yes!’ I retrace the letter again, taking my time and lifting his finger off the page before crossing the letter.
Lost it.
‘You’ll find it again.’ I twist my head, looking up at him. His emotion switches, from joy to desire.
Can I… milkshake. Boys. Yard. Sorry.
‘You’re going to have to come up with a better song. Back to the book, Jack.’
I burst out laughing. ‘Katy Perry’s “I Kissed a Girl”?’
‘Sorry. I’m trying but?—’
‘Words, Jack. Focus on the page.’
‘Right.’
‘Close your eyes. It helped before.’
‘“It. Seemed. To. Me…”’
S-ee
‘S?’ he asks.
‘Yep!’
‘Holy shit.’
He closes his eyes and I can hear him trying to find the letter again. As he concentrates on the letters, I occasionally hear a burst of classical music, or an image of something you would buy from an old-fashioned candy shop. But then there is a tear in his thoughts, like the letter has fallen into a void.
‘How about, we stop for now, and I just read to you?’
‘I can keep trying. It’s working.’
‘You’re getting frustrated. You were relaxed when you saw the letters.’
‘You’re right.’ I release his hand. He lifts it and it drops to my bare skin. There is a jolt, a pulsing of energy through me. He begins making slow circles on my skin. I can feel the outline of the letter: ‘s’. I don’t say anything; I’m battling with my own desire and the little sparks his finger-tracing is leaving on my skin. Jack’s thoughts have quietened. I read until the end of the paragraph then close the book, turning back to him.
‘Why did you stop?’ he asks, with a hint of a frown.
‘Because right now,I’mthe one who is finding it hard to focus.’ My eyes drop to his mouth. ‘I want…’ I meet his eyes. There is a flicker of curiosity. ‘Can I kiss you?’
The words in his mind and the ones he speaks are almost simultaneous.
‘I thought you’d never ask.’ In one movement, I’m on his knee, my arms around his neck. Like before our thoughts collide: heat simmers, need aches, want and desire pools in my stomach, as my tongue tentatively licks the tip of his.
Oh Christ.
