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his lips as he came down, ready to kiss me.
I nudged him away, making sure the classroom was empty. “Stop it.”
He grabbed my tie, pulling me in. “I can’t.”
My thighs warmed, and the breath from his mouth tickled my lips.
I licked mine, taking a deep breath and tasting him.
“It was just once.” I walked around him, toward a desk. “That’s what we agreed to.”
“I don’t remember that conversation. Was I present for it?”
I arched an eyebrow, seeing other students enter the room as I set my bag on the floor next to a chair.
He leaned down, his words tickling the hair by my ear. “It’s not enough,” he said in a low voice. “Not even nearly enough. All I think about now is how I want last night all over again, but this time in my car, in my bed, in your bed, in the shower, outside…”
I exhaled, sweat cooling my forehead. Whipping around, I put a hand on his stomach, keeping him at bay.
“And you want it, too,” he taunted, fisting my tie, “or you wouldn’t be carrying me with you.”
Yeah, I was wearing his tie. So what?
Have a little foresight. Come on. We liked each other. I loved last night, and I hoped he did, too, but life was more complicated than that. We wouldn’t make it, and at our age, it was ridiculous to expect anything more.
I’d sneak out a few more times, we’d have fun, someone would fall in love, and then we’d both fall apart as he got tired of all the things I couldn’t do and constantly worried about helping me fit in.
He would lose nothing.
“Everything is a game to you,” I said, about to slide into my seat.
But he took me and pulled me down into his lap as he sat next to my desk. “Not everything.”
I pushed against him, seeing Michael stare at us as he took his seat in front of Will, turning just in time to hide his shitty-ass grin.
“Will,” I muttered, pleading.
He took my jaw softly in his hand, giving me pause.
“I need to talk to you,” he said, his eyes serious now. “The bruises on your back. Did you have an accident or—”
I wrenched my eyes away, seeing Townsend walk in. “It’s time for class.”
I pushed out of his lap, but he pulled me back.
“I need to talk to you,” he gritted out, “and it’s not waiting.”
I swatted at him, my palm landing against his neck, and I spotted all the hickeys I left last night. Or maybe one of them was still from the theater. I couldn’t remember.
My blood raced, seeing the evidence of how different I was in the dark.
God, what did he do to me?
He searched my eyes, whispering, “Do you like me, Em?”
Needles instantly pricked my throat. I gazed at him, not wanting to answer the question but not wanting to lie, either. I just wanted to kiss him.
I inched in, his eyes dropping to my mouth as he wrapped his arms around my waist.
