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Even with a full mouth, I lean over, pressing my lips to his. I can’t help it, he’s so sweet. He grins against my mouth as I back away slowly. “You’re amazing.”
He winks. “So are you.”
“This is awesome.” I sit back and cross my legs. “I’ve never been on a date like this.”
“No?”
“No,” I say, taking another bite. “It’s always dinner or a movie. Never anything like this. An inside picnic because it’s too cold outside is totally romantic.”
“Plus, no one can see my makeup-covered arms,” he teases and I giggle.
“I should have gotten that one palette I loved so much.”
A grin pulls at his lips. “I got it for you.”
My eyes widen. “No way!”
“Yeah, it’s in the car.”
I squeal before jumping in his lap. “You’re too much.”
He wraps his arm around my waist, holding me close before he holds his s’more to my lips. I take a bite, and as I chew, I smile at him. “Which do you like better? Boyfriend or best friend?”
I wish I could say how lucky I am to be in love with my best friend.
“Both.” I gaze into his eyes. “Asher, you did all this as my best friend too. You’ve always been considerate and sweet. Only now, I get to hump you. A lot.”
He nods, almost proud of himself. “I like the humping part.”
I scoff. “Of course, you do.”
“You have to admit, it’s pretty fucking great.”
“It is.” I nod. “But I love us. I’ve always loved us.”
His eyes meet mine once more, and I notice the heat creeping up his neck. He almost looks unsure of himself, but he nods. “I do too.”
If he loves us, surely, he loves me.
But I can’t chance asking that yet.
I lean forward on my knees, my ass pressing into his stomach as I try to reload my s’more maker. As he rubs my ass, he says, “My mom will kill me if we get marshmallow in her fireplace, so save me the ass-chewing and be careful.”
“Ah, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” I call over my shoulder, and he smacks my ass. “God, it’s like we’re kids again.”
As I sit back, he holds my hip. “I don’t remember smacking your ass as a kid.”
“Right? You should have.”
“Exactly, kind of wish I had.”
My face warms as I roast my s’more. I look over my shoulder at him and see that hooded look on his face that drives me wild. “You do?”
“I do. I think I would be different.”
I scrunch up my nose as I lean back, bringing up my s’more to check the temp. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, but I think with you, it’s really easy to open up,” he admits, but he doesn’t look at me. It’s like my mom’s words are coming true, and soon, my heart kicks up in speed. I move out of his lap, sitting in front of him, and I watch him. His hand stays at my waist, rubbing his thumb into it as he goes on. “With Jasmine, I kept everything locked down so tightly, and I’m not sure why.”
