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Her eyes are on my lips again, so I test a theory. When my tongue darts out to wet them, her own lips part. Keeping my eyes trained on her, I reach across the table and take her hand in mine. The second our hands touch, I feel the spark. It's like a current of electricity shoots through me.
Mya feels it too. Her gaze whips to where our hands rest on the table just as I lift her hand and press our palms together. She follows my lead, lacing our fingers together.
When I stand, she does the same.
Rounding the table, she falls in step with me as I hastily head toward the front door. The bell chimes above our heads as we exit, my feet pounding against the sidewalk to the same beat as my heart against my chest.
When we reach my bike, I twirl Mya into my arms, placing her between me and the bike. No where for her to run. No where she can hide. I'm about to ask her a question, and I don't plan to take her home until I get an answer.
"Brady, what are you—"
I place my finger over her lips to silence her. The feel of her soft lips beneath my calloused finger has me closing my eyes and suppressing a moan.
"Mya, I'm only going to ask you this once. Do you want to be my friend?"
"I thought we were friends," she replies once I remove my finger.
"Is that all we are?"
Mya's eyes search mine, her chest brushing against mine as she sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, seemingly contemplating how to answer.
"Do you want to be more?" She's turned the tables on me. Put the ball in my court.
There's a difference between wanting more and being able to give her all of me, though. And if she's headed to State for nursing school and I'm off to med school somewhere else, there's no point in starting something I won't want to end. After dreaming about Mya for almost three years, I know I won't want this to end.
"Do I want you? Yes."
"Then what are you waiting for?" she counters, rising on her tiptoes as she wraps her arms around my neck. "Kiss me."
