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“Hey, you’re the one on a hookup hiatus,” she said as I poured both of us a glass of water from the filtered pitcher. “Sounds pretty responsible to me.”
“It’s not going well at the moment,” I said, handing her the glass. She took it from my fingers and our eyes met. I had to clench the glass so I didn’t just drop it.
Lark Conroy was very, very much my type.
“Thanks,” she said, taking the water from me and gulping it down. “Do you want to know something?”
I moved away from her so I didn’t kiss her. “I’d love to know something.” I reached for my own water, hoping it could cool the fire that kept burning brighter the longer we spent together.
“Tonight was my first time at a bar. Legally anyway,” she said. That stopped me for a second.
“Wait, how old are you?” I guess I’d just assumed we were the same age.
“Twenty-one,” she said. “As of two weeks ago.”
I cleared my throat. “Well, happy belated birthday.”
“Thanks,” she said. “Is it rude to ask how old you are? I don’t want to assume.”
“I’m twenty-six,” I said. She seemed visibly relieved. “Are you not into MILFs?”
Lark almost choked on her water. “No, I am. I mean…” she trailed off, her face red.
“It’s okay, Lark,” I said, enjoying saying her name.
She set her water glass down on the counter and stepped toward me.
“How’s your hookup-hiatus hiatus going now?” she asked, tucking one of my curls behind my ear.
“Oh, I think it’s progressing nicely,” I said, stepping closer and putting my hand on her waist to pull her body flush with mine. Lark was just a few inches taller than me and I liked that. She looked down at me and smiled.
“So we’re going in the right direction?”
“Yes,” I said before I tilted my face to meet her mouth. The kiss exploded in my brain like fireworks. I really hadn’t been on my hiatus that long, but it felt like I hadn’t had a physical touch in a thousand years. I needed this kiss like oxygen and water and sustenance all rolled into one.
Lark trembled just a little bit and I lifted my hand to her hair as I pushed her a little, running my tongue along the seam of her lips, asking for entry.
She opened to me immediately, and that was all it took before I was backing her toward my room. Sure, we almost tripped over furniture and the cat, but we made it there in the end.
“I hate clothes,” I said between kisses as I pulled at hers. Normally I was excellent at peeling off any kind of outfit in a few seconds or less, but my fingers were not cooperating with me tonight.
“Me too,” Lark said. She’d been just as desperate to get mine off and had made just about as much progress.
A loud meow interrupted us, and I looked down to find Clementine rubbing himself against my legs and wailing.
“Pause button,” I said to Lark and stumbled to the kitchen and tried to remember how to put cat food in a bowl. There wasn’t much blood in my brain right now since it had migrated to more important areas. At last, the cat was fed and I went back to the bedroom to find Lark looking at my bookshelves.
She faced me, her cheeks flushed and pretty. “Still hate clothes?”
“More than ever,” I said.
Lark laughed and pulled her shirt over her head. Her bra was simple but classic—soft beige cotton. “Your turn.”
I didn’t really care who got naked first, as long as she got naked as soon as possible, so I yanked my shirt over my head and thanked past Sydney for always buying underwear that I wouldn’t mind someone else seeing. The dark blue lace made me feel sexy when I wore it.
“Should I leave these on?” Lark said, pointing to her jeans.
“Absolutely not,” I said, and she laughed as she pulled them off. I watched her reveal a pair of black underwear.
