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He shrugs. “A few people do. My closest guy friends. Amanda, because we've been buds since we were small. Emery and blonde Meghan know too, since they were with us when I took off to get you over spring break.”
I frown. Emery and blonde Meghan are…Kendall-adjacent. “You weren’t worried they’d say something to Leila?”
His roving hand stills. “I covered it up,” he says, a moment too late.
“They don't think it's weird that you'd like me?” I ask.
He pushes my hair off my face. “Have you seen yourself, Grace? Of course they don't fucking think it's weird. You're gorgeous; you're smart; you're nice to everyone. You even try to forgive people that no one else would forgive. There's a reason why you've only been at Penhallow for a short period of time but have so many friends.”
I tuck my fingers into his waistband to tug him closer. His mouth presses to mine and for some reason, I'm no longer nervous about any of this. When his hand slides from my waist to my breast, I shiver.
“You're okay?” he asks.
“I think we should take off my dress,” I say, biting my lip. I get onto my knees and pull the dress overhead.
He reaches up, running a finger down the center of my rib cage. “Look at you,” he says. “You are so fucking beautiful.”
I climb over the top of him, and he rolls me to my back. His lips find my neck. With some effort, he unhooks my bra and moves to my breasts, drawing my nipples between his teeth until I'm gasping.
He slides lower and tugs my panties to the side. His tongue parts me and I hiss in air.
“You don't have to—”
He raises a brow. “I love doing this. And as you probably realize, this isn't going to last long once we get going.”
His tongue returns, in long sweeps and tiny flickers. He pushes one finger in, and then a second. It's uncomfortable, almost painful, but also...good? His fingers plunge in and out, tapping against some spot inside me, and his tongue is...
“Oh God,” I call out, and then I come, greedy and gasping, tugging his hair.
He gets better at that every time he does it.
When my back finally settles, his jaw is locked.
“Did I pull your hair too hard?” I ask. “Sorry, I—”
He laughs, climbing up then lying down beside me. “No. I'm so fucking turned on that I was worried I might lose it just from listening to you come. I need a minute.”
He pulls me closer and nuzzles my neck. I unbutton his shirt and undo his belt. But when I reach toward his boxers, he stops me. “Give me one more minute.”
We talk about prom, about the couples who were fighting and the love triangle between Matt, Kendall H, and Matt's childhood best friend. We talk for so long I almost wonder if he's chickening out.
“Okay, I'm ready,” he says at last.
I remove his boxers. I wrap my hand around him, but he stops me, reaching for his pants and pulling a condom from the back pocket.
He rolls it on and then grasps himself. “You're sure it's okay?”
I nod. “Yes.” I'm breathless with how okay it is.
He rubs against me, the same path his tongue took a few minutes ago, but this is different...thicker, blunt, harder.
His tip presses in. He studies my face. “Is it okay?”
No. Not really.
It hurts. A lot. “It's fine,” I say, and I must convince him because he whispers thank fuck and pushes inside me.
His face buries against my neck. “God, Grace, it's so good.”
