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And sometimes that’s what intimacy with Lily feels like—an intoxicating fight that I can never decide if I want to win or lose.

“Hmm,” I breathe, hands gripping her waist and pulling her up into the air, pressing her back a little roughly into the wall. My knee presses in between her legs to hold her up. Though it would be easy enough to just hold her by her hips hovering in the air, I need my hands.

Fingers pulling at her scarf, I yank it down, baring her slender throat to my mouth, scraping my teeth along the tendons until my lips meet her ear.

“We both know nice doesn’t do it for you, right, Lil?”

Her hands lock into the collar of my jersey, pulling it a little roughly.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

A moan threatens at the back of my throat. I remember this question. I’ll always remember it—not sensual or seductive, but Lily. Purely needing to know, because she didn’t like the suddenness. She always wanted to know it was coming. And if I was looking at her at all, she would ask it.

Are you going to kiss me?

“Yeah, Lil,” I say, leaning in. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Her mouth parts and I turn her head toward me, my lips pressing to hers. I suck at her bottom lip first, a drag through my teeth where she can feel the slight point of my canines. It feels the same, and yet different.

Kissing Lily was a favorite pastime of mine—one she never seemed to adore as much as me. Not that she didn’t like kissing me, but she was too eager to do other things, press her mouth to other parts of me. Impatient as fuck when it came to sex.

That, and I knew she liked my voice, my words in her ear, even more than my kiss.

I pull back, before kissing her again, letting her little tongue play against mine as my hand grips into her hair, pulling it.

Her hips are already rocking against me, seeking something further through our layered clothing. Pulling my mouth off her, I start on her neck again where I know she’s most sensitive. I can feel her heartbeat there as the blood pumps and some darker impulse wants to bite into her pulse.

“What was it you wanted to say, Lil?”

“What?” It’s a gasping breath more than a word. “Tor—”

“You came to tell me something and instead gave your attention to someone else.” I squeeze my hand on her neck again, making her body jolt. “C’mon, Lily. Focus. Tell me.”

“I—um . . . I p-passed my math retest,” she says with a whine in her voice. “Can I—”

“Oh baby,” I smirk, pressing my forehead to hers and fumbling with my pants, pushing them down. “My smart girl deserves a reward, hmm?”

She nods profusely, eager and wanton and—

And someone is fucking knocking. I freeze, a hand slapping over her mouth. “Quiet for a sec, Lil.”

She pauses, hearing the same noise. I blow out an irritated breath and shake my head, setting her on her feet and pulling up my pants. She looks a little dizzy and the sight satisfies the purely caveman part of my brain.

“Lily?”

“Hmm?”

“Hey, look at me.” I grasp her chin lightly and sink down a bit, almost squatting to meet her eyes dead-on. She meets my gaze almost shyly. “I’m really fucking proud of you.”

She’s flushed and so am I, but I’m still rock hard and keyed up, straining against the fucking cup in my pants. But someone is banging on the door. I step back to open it, but her hand grasps onto my jersey.

“Wait— Don’t. I don’t want to go out there yet,” she begs, eyes wide and watering. Almost close to tears, which only makes me fucking harder. I grit my teeth, nostrils flaring as I shake my head.

“Relax, Lil,” I breathe. “Later.”

Straightening up to give an earful to Holden, who I suspect is most likely to be slamming a fist on the door right now, I blanch as the door opens.

Coach Harris, arms crossed, eyebrows settled into a disapproving frown. And LaBlanc behind him, a near identical pose.