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Natty would be scarred for life, and Mom probably would have a heart attack. No matter how hard I try, I can’t prevent the heat in my core from spreading further every time we lock eyes. By the end of the meal, my pants are so tight I’m sure I’ll have to do the penguin walk upstairs to not blow from the friction in my jeans. I need a cold shower—very cold.
At one point, I’m so deep in my head, envisioning myself exploring Lilly’s graceful neck with my mouth down to her collarbone, that Lilly kicks me under the table.
Yup, I’m fucked.
I stayunder the freezing spray until I’m shaking uncontrollably and the last bit ofheathas left my body. Busying myself in my room, I put on sweats and a fresh t-shirt, pick up stuff here and there, and scroll through my social media. Eventually, I hear Natty’s door close followed by Mom’s footsteps upstairs. Lilly’s door is ajar with the light off, which means she’s downstairs. Alone. This time, the fire remains at bay. Instead, a knot forms in my stomach, and my hands start trembling. It’s like being fourteen again, playing Seven Minutes in Heaven with Mandy Chamberlain. I slump down onto the foot of my bed and put my head in my hands. Deep breaths. Logically, I know I’m being ridiculous. I’m far from being a virgin. If sex were an Olympic sport, I’d have earned the gold medal the first year Kat and I dated. But this is Lilly, and I have no clue how to act. We’re not just your average high school couple falling in love. There is a moving truck full of baggage attached to each of us.
I roundthe corner to the family room and find Lilly covered under a throw blanket, watching one of her favorite shows. I stop at the sight. She hasn’t done that in forever, and it brings back a feeling of normality. She is cuddled up in the corner while I remain in the doorway, watchingher.
Without glancing away from the TV, she says, "You sitting down or what?"
Busted.
She’s smirking to herself as she speaks, and I huff out a laugh. I can always tell when Lilly is around, even if I haven’t seen her yet. It’s weird. It seems like she has developed the same skill, because I am sure I didn’t make a sound coming down.
Since she is cuddled in the corner, I sit down in the middle of the couch. I don’t want to assume, but I don’t want to sit too far away from her in my usual spot at the other end either. Crossing my arms over my chest, I have no clue what else to do with them—the urge to pull her on top of me makes my fingers twitch. We watch in silence, and I peer over at her whenever I think she’s not looking. Her posture is stiff, and I’m convinced she is paying as much attention to what’s on the screen as I am.
Lilly shifts, her feet touching my thigh through the blanket. It’s like I’ve touched a live wire, and I instinctively jerk my leg away. My heart starts racing, and I’m pretty much panting. Not to mention what’s going on in my sweats—again. I need to get out of here, or this time, I am going to jump her.
I bolt from the couch, mumbling something along the lines of, "Be right back," and escape to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I let the escaping air cool my skin.
That’s better.
I stare inside the fridge for a good five minutes before I grab two water bottles and make my way back with the best intention of keeping it together.
Handing one of the bottles to Lilly, our fingers brush when she takes it, and her eyes widen at the contact. She lets her fingers linger for longer than necessary before settling back onto the couch. Maybe I’m not the only one affected here? But despite her body language, her voice is calm, almost nonchalant, when she lifts the edge of the blanket. "Sitting down?"
My eyes bounce between her face, her raised hand, and the spot on the couch a few times.
"Rhys?" Her eyes twinkle with mischief.
Uh, wha—? God, I need to get a grip. If someone looked up "horny as fuck" right now, I’m pretty sure my picture would be there.
I settle down, and she drops the blanket over my lap. That’s when I notice—fuuuuuck. Instead of angling away from me with her feet on my side, her feet are now in the opposite direction, and she slowly starts leaning into me. Here we go again: heartbeat from zero to one-eighty in 0.1 second. I shift to release some of the sudden constriction in my pants.
I didn’t realize my sweats were this small.
Long inhale, four, three, two, exhale. Nope, not working, still sporting a tent. I’m between sprinting back to the fridge and pressing her into the couch cushions. How am I supposed to begoodwith her this close?
Ah, fuck it. What’s the worst that can happen? Besides her shooting me down and our life becoming more awkward than it already is? Yeah, no big deal. I slide my left hand toward her under the throw blanket until our pinkies touch, holding my breath. Without hesitation, she intertwines our fingers.
Holy sh— With this one touch, all anxiety leaves my body, and I’m...home. The other part of my anatomy also calms, even though I would’ve expected the opposite, given the skin-to-skin contact. For the first time tonight, I’m able to relax and actually watch some of the show still playing on the screen.
"Rhys?"
"Hmmm?" I’m so freaking content with her hand in mine.
When she doesn’t say anything else, I turn my head. "What is it, Cal?"
Not looking at me, she takes a deep breath like she is deliberating. "What are we?"
Huh? My eyebrows knit together while I attempt to decipher what she is asking.
She squeezes my hand. "This. I mean..." She hesitates, pink staining her cheeks. "We can’t be together."
What the hell is she talking about?
My chest constricts, and I fully angle my body toward her. "What are you talking about, babe? Why not?" I clutch her hand; a different type of anxiety now slowly builds up.
