“I'm fine,” I say, more sharply than I mean to. “Let me go, Cal.”
He does. Quickly.
Very quickly.
His Adam’s apple bobbing, his eyes huge behind his glasses.
His mouth a little open.
Oh.
Oh.
A possibility takes shape in my mind.
I glance at his water bottle. "Are you in the middle of something?"
Cal follows my gaze. Shakes his head. "Just studying."
"Ah." I nod, slowly. Breathe out.
Do it, Gwenna, I think.Do it now before you lose your nerve.
Cal retreats a step back. "Sorry to bother--"
I don't let him finish his sentence.
"Cal. Listen."
He stops. He's listening.
“I’m going to go up to my bedroom now.” I say it slowly and steadily as I can manage. "And you’re going to go up with me.”
He nods. Nods again. Doesn't speak.
"Do you understand?" I ask. My voice is almost shaking.
It takes him a moment. But not a long one.
“Oh," he murmurs. "Yeah. Yes. Yes, I--”
I don’t wait for him to finish his response before I turn on my heel for the staircase. And it’s thrilling, justleaving him thereand expecting him to follow.
Because follow he does. At a clip: two long, loud strides and he’s at my side, only to hang back as we mount the stairs, like he isn’t sure if he should outpace me or not. If he’sallowedto outpace me or not.
Guess that’s up to me.
Heart thrumming against my ribs, I push open my bedroom door without even looking over my shoulder, just hearing him follow me.
“Close the door.”
He does.
"Kiss me."
He nods a few times. Then it's like he remembers he's supposed to move, and seizes me, pulling my face up to meet his almost hard enough to hurt my neck.
God, he's tall. "Pick me up," I murmur into his lips, and he does, although not without some maneuvering, figuring out where to seat his hands and how to lift me, but once he does...
