“Where’d they go?” I heard Logan question, their voices getting closer as they roamed the house in search of us.
Curtis and I barely separated, his palms continued to bracket my face, refusing to fully let go. His eyes were feral and clouded, which reflected the same in mine.
“Later,” he said.
“Please,” I replied, leaving the wanton promise lingering between us.
“Fuck,” he muttered before he kissed me again. Not an innocent peck. No. It was a claiming before he abruptly ripped away from me, storming down the hallway.
I was a useless puddle of mush—left wet, aching and craving my next fix.
Curtis was mine, and it was about time I showed him how much.
Chapter 32
STELLA
I was nervous and giddy, going on my first date with my best friend.
Dad was in no way surprised. If anything, he had a good laugh watching me fret and pace his living room.
I had gone all out, changing outfits no less than six times, meticulously applying my makeup and fluffing my hair right up to the second Curtis picked me up in his massive, overpriced truck. The passenger seat swallowed me and my short red dress whole as I shuffled to get comfortable.
Curtis flashed a beaming smile, one masculine hand steering the wheel as the other landed on my thigh, stroking and soothing in rhythmic circles.
“Breathe, Stells. Everything’s going to be alright.”
No. It certainly wasn’tgoing to be alright. Especially if he kept touching me likethat.The subtle imprint of his fingertips already lit a trail of fire up to my centre.
How am I supposed to last the night?
Curtis had said he was taking me on a tour of the past. But that was the only hint he had given to our destination.
My brow furrowed as he pulled up to our old primary school. And I was confused further when he told me to get out.
The place was closed, gates locked tight. I turned to him, sceptical. “These shoes aren’t appropriate for a successful break-and-enter.”
Curtis chuckled, catching my hand in his. “Neither is that dress. Don’t worry, baby, I got you.”
He pulled me down a short alley and opened a side door into the administrative building. I stayed silent as he led me into a lit office, and recognition made me pause.
We were standing in the sick bay we had gone to as seven-year-olds, after I’d karate-chopped his face.
Except Curtis had decked out the small space with flowers, a picnic rug laden with all my favourite foods and champagne on ice. The setting was entirely random and so thoughtful that warmth radiated through me.
“I wanted to start from the beginning. Wherewestarted,” he said. Curtis popped the cork and poured a generous glass of bubbly before pushing the rim to my lips. “I forgive you for making me blind in my right eye.”
I giggled at his ridiculousness, pressing a palm to his chest while I sipped from my drink. “You still have the other one.”
He shrugged. “I only need one to see you.” Then, he winked, sending tingles cascading over my skin.
Someone save me.
We sat on the picnic rug, sharing food and stories of our past, reminiscing over old memories I had forgotten. Soon, time slipped away, and I was ridiculously happy, my tummy cramping with the endless laughter he had coerced out of me.
As we finished off the bottle, Curtis stood, then offered a hand to pull me up alongside him. “Now, let’s go to stop number two.”
“On our tour of the past?”
