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And how, on a whim one Sunday afternoon before even managing to reach the end of the first semester, I packed my suitcase and bought a one-way plane ticket to the States.
"Why America?" Mitchell asked, a tender curiosity underpinning his words.
"Why not?" I dragged my fingers through my hair. "I needed a fresh start. And this is a big enough country to get lost in."
His lips curved. "And a big enough country to find yourself."
So he was a nice guy...and an optimistic one, too.
"I hope so. I’m starting to get on a bit."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-four," I replied with a sigh. "Turning twenty-five next month. You?"
"Twenty-one."
"Holy shit," I exclaimed, eyeing his youthful facial features. "You’re barely legal."
"But I am legal." A delicious defiance rang out in his voice.
I felt his hand grazing the side of my leg, igniting my skin.
I leaned in closer.
He did the same.
"So"—his warm breath fanned across my face—"you never did tell me about that guy you wanted to...snog."
"What guy?" I pulled in even closer, our noses so close they were almost touching. "Oh, that guy."
I remembered the conversation Mitchell had overheard me having with Miguel at the swimup bar. "Forget about him," I murmured.
A searing look filled his eyes. "Done."
My mouth twitched. "There’s actually this other guy I wouldn’t mind snogging."
"Oh yeah?" Mitchell danced his finger across my shoulder. "Is there any way I can help with that?"
Before I could answer, the softest set of lips found mine. We stayed still, our mouths connected, but no movement. A sweet moan escaped his lips, and I felt happy he was enjoying this as much as I was.
After a few blissful moments, he nibbled against my lip as his hands roamed across my chest. I returned the kiss, eager to take in more of his sweet scent. Our tongues were lapping at each other.
I grabbed his head in my hands, overtaken by a deep desire to have this pretty, nice boy as close to me as possible. He unleashed something within me. It caught me by surprise as I drove my tongue deeper and deeper into his mouth.
I wanted him, and judging by how his lips parted to let me in, he wanted me, too. A deep groan emanated from the back of his throat and vibrated against my tongue.
"Wanna go back to my place?" I somehow managed to ask, despite our lips nibbling at each other furiously.
Instantly, he pulled away, and I felt the spritz of the night air, cold against my face.
His eyes went dark. "I, uh…"
I placed my hand on his forearm, in the exact same spot as where I’d first touched him when we’d met at the swimup bar.
Oh, right, shit. Of course, that reminded me. He’d had some, er, trouble in the dating department.
"I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. It sounds like you have every reason in the world not to trust guys. I get it."
