Page 125 of The Cheerleader

My mouth hangs open again, and again I don’t know what to say.

“It’s an old story, a cliché, and I’m not proud of that. In fact, I feel ridiculous. I would never admit it to anyone. Except you.”

“So come to the Christmas party.” It’s all I can think to say. Not exactly comforting, but I haven’t been too good at comforting him lately anyway.

Bryan grunts. “I need to get through finals before I think about a post-finals party.”

“You’ll go,” I say. “Dane won’t let you miss it because it’s a football party.” I pause, but my words don’t move him. Then I take a deep breath and add, “Besides, it’ll give us another chance to see each other.” I lay it all on the line and hold my breath.

“That’s why I should stay away.”

“Don’t.” I deflate and my heart sinks because he’s convinced he’s right. I can’t stand the feeling that he’s slipping away. Desperate to avoid the sensation of losing him, I’m willing to settle for whatever small part I can get. Hell, maybe I’m desperate enough to accept the role of third wheel to him and Liz if that’s all there is.

“If you believe in final hurrahs, come to the party with me,” I say quietly. I know he’s thinking if ever, but I can’t believe that.

He glances at me. “Are you asking me on a date?”

I can’t tell if he’s serious, so I assume he’s joking. It’s usually a safe assumption, even if he carries off the dry humor like a funny camel in the Sahara.

“We’ll see.” He starts walking, and I walk with him in the direction of the library, well aware that I’m pathetic.

“What will we see?”

“We’ll see whether or not I have enough integrity or willpower to resist you.”

I laugh. “Still on a melodrama kick, I see.”

He grunts. “You asked for it.”

We walk in silence until we get to the library steps. “You going to follow me inside?”

“No.” I turn to go, then I stop. “Liz is going home this weekend.”

He flinched when I said Liz’s name.

He says nothing, so I keep talking. “We don’t have a basketball game, and her mom needs her help.”

He grunts and eyes the enormous library doors like he wants to escape from me. Or maybe it’s Liz and her problems he wants to escape from. That’s something I need to find out.

“She’s bummed about it.” My nerves pile up in my gut, churning it around like I’m making butter, but I forge on. “She’s leaving before dinner.”

He looks at me. He knows an invitation when he hears one. I hold my breath, feeling dizzy and keeping my eyes on his.

When he nods, I want to collapse with relief, but I don’t, because guilt replaces all the pleasure I might have gotten from knowing we’ll have another chance to be together.

Tonight. One night to figure it out or…

Bryan stays after dinner and comes up to my room when I suggest he can write a few paragraphs to practice for the English Comp final. He picks up his books, and as we walk from the dining room to the stairs, I feel eyes on us, ratcheting up my guilt-tension. He follows me to my door, getting closer and closer to me until I can feel his heat and scent press on my nerves.

I open the door and go in, bubbling with anticipation and trepidation. As soon as he steps inside behind me, he kicks the door shut, takes me by the arms, and turns me around until I’m backed up against it. With his hands on either side of me, trapping me, he flattens his body against mine, and the feel of him, every hard muscle, the weight of him, the powerful press of his arousal, makes me dizzy with pleasure.

“Is this what you want?” he rasps, his face close to mine, his warmth engulfing me, and I breathe him in. His mouth is so close that I can’t help kissing it. He growls and responds, deepening the kiss, pressing harder against me until I tingle with unbearable need.

He lifts his mouth from mine and takes in a ragged breath. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

I nod as I trail kisses across his jawline. Surprising me, he lifts me off the ground and carries me to my bed. He brings me down on top of him, and we roll to our sides as he moves his strong hands down to cup my rear, pulling me exquisitely close, making me hyper aware that we’re fully clothed and that we won’t be for long.

He stares at me through half-lidded eyes, and the hunger I see, and that I feel in myself, makes my heart palpitate. Before he kisses me again, before I get drunk with desire, I have to know what we’re about, what’s bothering him, because I know it’s more than me.