Chapter 26
Josh and I talk for an hour. I’m trying to keep up this façade like this isn’t a big deal, like I’m not totally freaking out inside, but it’s hard. Every single thing he says makes me smile, and my cheeks are actually hurting from my happiness.
After I’d embarrassingly burst into tears in front of him, he’d held me until I got myself under control. Then he cracked some joke and I laughed, and things have been great since.
I came so close to telling him about my insecurities, about how badly I want to let myself like him but I’m scared shitless about being rejected for my weight. The words never left my tongue, because thinking these intimate things are much easier than saying them aloud.
Somehow we get on the topic of extreme sports, and Josh tells me about this time he was jumping ditches on his bicycle as a kid.
He mimes the bike with his hand while he talks. “The rubber hand grips were all worn off and so when I jumped, the grip slipped off, and of course I crashed because I suck at extreme sports,” he says with a laugh, then makes one hand crash into the other one. “I flipped over and the end of the metal handlebars hit me in the head and took out a big chunk of my scalp. My mom was freaking out because of all the blood.”
“Oh gross,” I say, tugging my pillow into my lap in an effort to block my fat stomach from view.
Josh rises from my computer chair and sits next to me on the bed, leaning forward. “You can still see the scar from the stitches I had to get.” He runs his hands over his hair, his fingers going to the exact spot of his scar like he’s found it a million times. I wonder how many other girls he’s shown this to over the years.
“Wow, that’s pretty nasty,” I say, examining the long jagged line of scar tissue on his head.
He sits back up, running a hand over his hair to smooth it over the scar. He’s now just a few inches away, the mattress sagging beneath his weight. I gulp and hug my pillow to my chest.
“So, are you feeling better?” Josh says.
I shrug. “I suppose.”
He reaches out and runs his finger down the length of my arm, hooking it around my index finger. “Do you think you’d let me take you out to dinner sometime? Go on a real date?”
“Hmm, now that I’m thinking about it,” I say, putting a finger to my lips as I pretend to think it over. “I let you kiss me before we even had a real date. I totally got ripped off.”
He laughs and leans forward, making the mattress sink and push us closer together. “You should make that mistake again. You know, just one more time before we go out.”
I swallow. He is so close, his lips just inches from mine, and all it would take is a slight movement to bring them together. I can tell he’s waiting for me to make the move now that he’s thrown the idea out there. His words hover in the space between us, making me excited and scared at the same time.
“Well, maybe one more mistake won’t hurt . . .” I say, unable to hide my grin.
“Awesome,” Josh breathes, as he leans in and our lips meet.
This kiss is so much better than the first few. Now it’s like we’re in tune with each other. Josh’s calloused hand goes straight to my cheek, sending a shock of goosebumps down through my neck. He is warm and comforting, and muscular and perfect.
I reach up and grab his shoulders, pulling him against me. He grins, a mischievous and scary handsome look in his eyes. The next thing I know, I’m falling backward, my head crashing into my pillow. Josh’s hard body is on top of mine, hovering on his elbows. My boobs press into his chest and he glances down at them for a second before bringing his lips back up to mine.
Making out horizontally is about a million times better than standing up. Josh’s hands are all over me, his kisses dotting my neck down to my collarbone and making me squeal. I run my fingers down his chest, then slightly up his abs, under his shirt. He grunts with pleasure when I trace circles with my fingers just above the waistband of his jeans.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispers against my ear.
His erection presses against my lower belly and suddenly I can’t think of anything at all, except how badly I want him to stay here on top of me forever.
I don’t even register the compliment he just gave me, not really. I’m too busy tossing my head back as chills ripple through my body when he kisses my neck. I grab onto him, pulling his chin up for another kiss.
That’s when I hear my grandma’s voice.
“Bess? Honey are you up?”
“Shit!” I shove Josh off of me, and he rolls over, hopping to his feet in record time.
Eyes wide, he whispers, “Where do I go?”
“Bess, honey, I’m home!” Grandma says from the hallway.
“The floor,” I whisper, pointing to the small space between the other side of my bed and the wall. Unless Grandma hops on my bed and looks over the other side, she shouldn’t see him. And Grandma’s not much of a hopping person, thank God.
