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My eyes widen as a garbled sound escapes from me.
A little ahead of himself?
Five- and ten-year plan?
We’ve been out precisely three times, and the chances of there being a fourth have dwindled to the single digits.
I need to tell him that this—whatever he thinksthisis—isn't going to happen. “Aaron...”
He perks up and sways closer. “Yeah?”
There’s so much hope and expectation packed into that one word.
Argh.
Why does this have to be so difficult?
The problem is that he reallyisa nice guy. And what he said is absolutely true, wedohave a lot in common. It’s the reason I talked myself into giving him another chance.
And then a third.
There are a lot of douchey guys at this school who are only interested in sleeping with a chick before moving onto the next warm body. Sometimes within the span of the same evening. They don't have five- or ten-year plans that involve one specific girl. They don't even have twenty-four-hour plans that involve the same female.
So, when you happen to find a guy who has the opposite mindset, you need to take the time to delve deep and really get to know him before tossing him back into the wild for someone else to snap up.
“I had a nice time, too,” I say carefully.
“Good.” The tension filling his narrow shoulders drains as he beams in relief.
Aaron has a wiry build. His limbs are long and lean, much like a runner. Unlike some of the football or hockey players that strut around campus with their muscles on display as if they’re god’s gift to the female species.
Ugh. They seem to be everywhere.
As I stare into his earnest eyes, I make a last ditch effort to convince myself that he’s exactly the type of guy I’m attracted to.
Deep down, in a place I’m loath to acknowledge, I know it’s a lie.
Carina, damn her, would also tell me that the worst lies are the ones we tell ourselves.
That girl really needs to stay out of my head.
His hands reemerge from the depths of his pockets before rising to my face. It would be difficult not to notice their slight tremble. I force myself to stand perfectly still and not evade his touch at the last moment. And if that doesn’t tell you everything you need to know about this situation, I’m not sure what will.
His eyelids droop to half-mast. “I'm going to kiss you now, Juliette,” he mutters thickly. “I hope that's all right.”
And with that, the mood has officially been killed.
Not that there was much of one to begin with, but still...
Unlike him, my eyes stay wide open as he moves toward me in slow motion. I steel myself for impact instead of flinching away.
Maybe I'm wrong.
Maybe Aaron will surprise the hell out of me and will end up being a phenomenal kisser. I'll magically lose myself in the caress as time and space cease to exist.
It’s tentatively that his lips settle over mine. They're dry and papery to the touch. It’s kind of like being pecked by a distant aunt or uncle.
Everything inside me deflates with the knowledge that this isn’t going to end any other way than me carefully letting him down, because there’s no way in hell I can do this again.
