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It was easy when he was holding me and telling me.
It really was.
So I savored the moment. “Pizza. Compliments. Kisses. Now songs. I think you’re pretty perfect, too.”
Sprawled on his bed an hour later while he worked through the minor key change in “Message in a Bottle”, I confirmed my earlier opinion. Ian had a gift.
Even more, we had the right song. Poignant. Haunting. Memorable.
And all him.
Chapter Fifteen
Games Teens Play
Instead of heading directly back to his place, Ian took us for a ride around the lake. Between the wind against my face, the rumble of the motorcycle between my legs, and the ripple of his muscles under my hands as we flew down the winding road, the day kind of faded away. Not that it had been a bad day, but by the end of it, I’d been exhausted.
I told myself that the other kids talking about me didn’t matter. It didn’t. In a few months, I’d graduate, and then I was out of here. I’d be on my way to college—c’mon Harvard, get me in!—I’d be living in a whole new city, having a whole new life, and who cared what the kids at Robertson High thought?
If I was lucky, the guys would be going to Harvard too, or MIT for Jake and Archie. They’d be close by, and if not—well, we’d find a way to stay in touch. It wasn’t like we didn’t text sixty times a day. It would be fine. Mom would do—well, whatever she was going to do, and I’d have my own life separate from having to worry about her. I shuttled her to the side, I hadn’t called her back, and she hadn’t texted or reached out again, and I kind of hoped it stayed that way.
I wasn’t ready to really talk to her.
Eyes closed, I drank in the sensation of the ride and only opened them when Ian slowed us down and then came to a stop. We were parked on one of the pseudo bluffs overlooking the lake. The whole area was dotted with them; little turn offs that offered some privacy from the road and ideal for picnicking or photos. Come spring, everyone and their brother would be out here for graduation pics.
Ugh. There was another thing I didn’t want to think about. Even though we stopped, I didn’t let go of him until he twisted a little, and then it was only to lean back so I could meet his gaze.
“Hi,” he murmured, and his husky tenor rolled right over me like a hug in motion. The sunglasses hid his deep blue eyes, but I didn’t need to see them to know the smile curving his lips definitely filled them. Ian seemed to smile with his whole being. It was one of the things I’d always adored about him.
“Hi,” I answered, rubbing my thumb idly against his side since I had only dropped my hands to his waist rather than let him go entirely.
“Would you agree we’re not at school anymore?” He quirked his brows high, and I laughed.
“Definitely not at school—” He twisted, one arm snaking around my waist, and then his mouth closed over mine and I forgot the rest of the sentence. The slow, even massage of his caress teased me. Firm, yet soft, and then he stroked his tongue along the seam of my lips and I opened to him.
Heat swept me from head to toe. Kissing Ian was like taking a deep dive into a perfectly crystal pool. The depths were so much more than I expected, and the sensations unraveling had me digging my fingers into him as he sucked on my tongue. Then just as swiftly as he deepened the kiss, he eased it down with light nipping kisses, drawing on my lower lip and then whispering them away before nuzzling the corner of my mouth.
Coils of tension looped around me in an ever-shrinking circumference until I plastered against his side, my thighs against his, and he lifted his head with a sigh that I echoed.
“I’ve been waiting to do that all day,” he told me, and I shuddered.
“Yeah?”
“Well, since the last time you let me kiss you really—but that seems like eons ago.”
It did. I licked my lips and lifted a hand to cup his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” He shut off the bike and the rumbling noise ceased abruptly, leaving us in a quiet punctuated only by a breeze off the lake and the hum of traffic on the loop beyond the trees.
“For saying no more PDAs at school,” I said. “It’s been a lot the last few days, and then I told everyone they couldn’t kiss me.”
“No,” he said, rubbing his hand in a slow circle against my back. “You don’t have to apologize for telling us what you need. Always tell me what’s going on, seriously. If we talked like this before—maybe we could have avoided some of our issues.”
I laughed, even if it wasn’t terrifically funny. “I used to think we were always honest with each other. We always talked.”
“I know,” he promised, head forward so his helmet rested against mine. They made a little thunk noise that pulled another giggle out of me. “Me, too. Then I found out we’re all a little hard-headed.” His grin widened, and I laughed again.
“Only a little?”
