Their voices trailed off into nothingness, and I slumped forward in relief, forehead falling into Beck’s chest, forgetting everything else as the emotion rushed to my head. The universe was smiling down on me. I was sure of it.
I thought that, at least, until I lifted my gaze.
Beck’s green eyes were solely on me, half-lidded as he peered down. The color seemed darker than usual, and it wasn’t just the dim closet lighting. His pupils were wide, as if something about the moment caused them to dilate.
Like the fact that I’d slumped wholly against him, forgetting it wasn’t a wall that’d been supporting my weight.
Or the fact that his hand still rested at the small of my back.
Or the fact that my palm was still against his mouth.
I jerked my hand back, severing the connection, but it only lasted a second. Beck’s own hand reached up with lightning speed, snatching my wrist once again.
His grip was tight and unyielding as he laid my palm back against his mouth.
All while never. Even. Blinking.
Without the rush of adrenaline from nearly being discovered, I had nothing else to focus on other than how soft his mouth was on my skin. His plush lips were against the seams of my fingers, and I could feel the gentle, slow exhale of his breath through his nose. It was steady, unaffected, unlike the jerky gasps I tried to discreetly draw in.
I frantically fought for a word to spell, to calm myself, coming up empty. I tried to pull my now-trembling hand back, but Beck held on. He had to feel my pulse stampeding beneath his fingers, but he didn’t react.
H-I-S H-A-N-D. The one pressed against the small of my back. The pressure had lightened more now than when he’d initially pressed me close to him, as if it were no longer necessary. In the midst of my world tumbling over itself, I realized.
Beck had been trying to get me as close to him as possible… to get me out of view from the doorway. He’d been trying to help me hide.
Beck’s lashes swept down in the world’s slowest blink.
Eleanor, he’d said. Ordered.Spell it.
D-E-L-U-S-I-O-N-A-L.
Then, while never looking away, Beck’s lips pursed against my skin to kiss my palm.
The searching touch raced me, my entire bodyburning as if I’d just been thrown into a fire. It swamped me so suddenly, so instantly, that I thought I was going to pass out. Beck’s hold on my wrist loosened enough that I could’ve pulled away, but I didn’t. Couldn’t. As if magnetized, my hand stayed against his lips, memorizing the way his kiss felt.
Imagining what it’d feel like if I replaced my palm with my mouth.
Have you looked at his mouth yet?Beck had asked me.
Have you imagined kissing him?he’d asked me.
When you want someone, you’ll look at their mouth. You’ll imagine kissing them. You won’t be able to help it.
His mouth was now hidden behind my palm, pressing a kiss to it, but if I moved my hand—if I leaned forward?—
Beck flinched, as if I’d spoken those traitorous thoughts aloud. And then he pulled my wrist away, thumb slipping over the skin as he dropped it. His expression changed, almost in a flash. Gone was the honeyed look in his eye, dripping with surety. In its place was something like horror—the same kind that’d filled his expression that first time at Senior Night, when he realized the girl he’d run into was the one who’d ruined his life.
His jaw shifted. “Like I said,” Beck got out, his voice almost having a shivering quality to it. A tremble he tried to lock down. “Glutton for punishment.”
Without another word, and without looking at me again, he stepped around me and slipped out of the closet. The air was still thick, though, still suffocating. I couldn’t slow my breathing, drawing in breath after gasping breath.
Even with Beck gone, I could still feel himeverywhere. The firm press of his hand on my back. His fingers circled around my wrist. The weight of my forehead against his chest.
His cheek against my palm.
His lips against my palm.
A choked sound lodged in my throat. I slapped my hand over my mouth, holding my breath until my lungs burned. Why hadn’t I pulled away? Why had I stood there like that—letting him touch me, letting myself feel it, letting myself think?—
