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“Sorry you had to see that,” he said.
“Yeah. Well, that was my bad. There are a dozen people in line for the one downstairs.”
“Sounds right.”
He pointed down the hall, the way that Amelia had gone. “The bathroom is the second door on the left.”
“Um… thanks.”
“No problem,” he said and then sank into the sofa in the second-story landing. It was large enough to be a whole other living area, complete with a giant television and all the video game consoles.
I scurried past Derek and found the bathroom with ease. I took my time in the bathroom, hoping that I could avoid any more of the awkwardness. After I finished, I peeked back out to find him still sitting there, staring off into nothing. I could scurry away like Chuck Henderson and not ever have to talk to Derek again. It would be easy.
And somehow, it wasn’t.
I bit my lip as I walked out onto the landing and then took the seat next to him. He looked up in surprise. Those hazel eyes searching mine for an answer for my continued appearance.
“That was a nice thing you did for your sister,” I said.
He chuckled, a low rumble in the back of his throat. “She sure doesn’t think so.”
“I’m well acquainted with the Chucks of this world. Seen a bunch of them up close and personal.”
He arched an eyebrow, and my cheeks heated again.
“My mom,” I said quickly. “She’s dated her fair share of jerks. I’m usually pretty good at spotting the Chucks. Which is kind of why I was like that with you.”
“You thought I was a Chuck?” he asked. “What a pickup line.”
I laughed. “I’m not trying to pick you up. I’m trying to say that I think maybe you’re not as terrible as you make yourself seem.”
He straightened on the sofa next to me and swept a curly lock out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Oh? You think you’re terrible?”
“I know what I want.”
I laughed and pulled back. “You were doing so well.”
He arched an eyebrow. “So why are you still here?”
“Really asking myself the same question,” I admitted. “You’d think I was smarter than this. I’m in Duke TIP and everything.”
“Ah, good old Duke TIP,” he said with a sneer.
“What?” I asked, automatically offended. “You have something against smart kids getting opportunities for one of the best schools in the South?”
“Nah. Now, hold on. I didn’t say that. I was offered for TIP, but we don’t do Duke in this house.” He grinned broadly. “Go Heels. Go America.”
I snorted. “Oh, I see. You’re a UNC fan.”
“Tar Heels all day, every day, baby.” He leaned back on the sofa and stretched his arms out wide.
“That’s nice and all, but Duke is a better school.”
He snorted. “No.”
“No, what? Objectively, that’s true.”
“Meh.”
I shook my head at him. “You do realize that rivalry is clouding your brain so that you can’t think clearly about this.”
“You can say that, but I will continue to disagree. UNC is better than Duke on every metric.”
“Wow. That is blatantly false.” I threw my hands wide at his rejection of the one thing that had made me special for so long. The one way to get out of this town. My brain, my supposed brilliance, the scholarship that would put me on the road to bigger and better.
“Look, Marley, you’re hot when you’re all riled up,” he said, tipping my chin up. “But UNC is just better at basketball, and that’s a fact.”
“Basketball,” I said slowly with a disbelieving head shake.
“Priorities.”
“You’re absurd.”
He grinned. “I’ve been called worse.”
“I don’t—”
But I didn’t get to finish my sentence.
His hand slid back into my wild brown curls. His perfect lips formed the word, “Shh,” and then he fitted his mouth to mine.
My brain malfunctioned at the touch of his lips against mine. Those damn lips that I’d thought were too pretty and perfect for one person. Now they were touching mine, and fuck it, they were even better in person. Soft and tender.
My heart raced as he dragged me closer. He laughed softly when I didn’t immediately respond and pulled back to look deep into my eyes. When I didn’t run in the other direction, he slid his thumb across my bottom lip. I shuddered at that touch. God, he knew what he was doing, and I was so inexperienced. This was my first kiss, and I was sure that I was botching it.
“Should I stop?” he asked sincerely.
Though he’d stolen my first kiss, he was offering me my second.
And to my surprise, I responded, “No.”
He tugged me forward, harder this time. And I forgot all else but the feel of his lips against mine. I moved against him, letting instinct take over. For the first time in a long, long time, I didn’t think at all. Not even a little. I just gave myself over to the moment.
