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Her expression goes blank with shock. I know she knows that I love her. But I don’t know if Lennon has ever totally grasped how deep my feelings for her are or how far back they run. I’ve never made a point to emphasize it. It was slightly embarrassing, honestly. How suddenly sure I was. No person until then—or since—captured my attention so immediately and completely.
“Well, what’s stopping you now?”
I smile before lowering my lips to hers.
We keep dancing, enjoying being two people in the same place at the same time. And I push away my worries this is just a temporary lull before the next wave rolls in.
Lennon and I have never enjoyed calm waters.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
LENNON
The loud blare of Caleb’s alarm wakes me up—long before I’m ready to be conscious. I roll over, smushing my face against the warm, hard planes of his chest.
“Morning,” he murmurs, running his fingers through my hair.
It feels amazing. I groan, both from the pleasure and the realization the rest of me feels awful.
I don’t drink and I don’t go to bed late. Last night, I did both. Caleb and I didn’t come up to his bedroom until after two a.m. I think the last time I stayed up that late was our graduation party. And I only had one drink and half of Caleb’s beer. But since my alcohol tolerance might as well not exist, I’m pretty sure my dry mouth and pounding head means I’m hungover.
Caleb slides out from under me and climbs out of bed. I bury my face in his pillow, promising myself I’ll never drink or stay up past midnight again.
“Len.” Something nudges my elbow a little while later. If I didn’t feel so terrible, I’d probably be asleep.
I roll over reluctantly, blinking at the bright sun. Caleb is fully dressed, holding a sports drink out to me.
“It’ll help,” he promises. “Take this too.”
Caleb hands me a small white pill. I sit up to swallow it with the red liquid that tastes like cherries.
“You okay?” He takes a seat on the mattress, watching me with a mixture of concern and amusement.
I lean forward and into him. He smells so good. Like fresh laundry and soap. Clean and masculine. I snuggle into the curve of his neck, my lips brushing his throat.
“Yeah.” I sigh. “Just sleepy.”
But I’m awake. I suck at a spot on the side of his neck and Caleb goes rigid, like I electrocuted him. I move to another spot, and he exhales a harsh breath. “I have practice, baby. I’m already running late.”
I pull back and pout.
He grins. “You know, I was thinking I should never let you drink again. But if this is how you act in the morning, maybe I will.”
I finish the sports drink and set the empty bottle on the side table before falling back against the sheets. I’m not wearing anything under the T-shirt I pulled on last night, and I watch him realize that.
Beneath the hangover symptoms, I feel giddy. This feels like such a normal morning, but it’s the first time we’ve woken up in bed together after attending a party the night before. I’ve experienced a lot with Caleb, but this is a first. And frankly, something I never thought Iwouldexperience with him.
Caleb takes baseball very seriously. Every time we talked while he was at Mayfair this past summer, he was just coming back from the field, hours after the session had technically ended. I heard the background commentary on his end of the line, the jokes being made about all work and no play.
So, I’m expecting him to kiss me goodbye and head to practice.
Instead, he stands and tugs down his baseball pants, just low enough to free his growing erection. Caleb grins, probably at my shocked expression, then crawls over me.
We both moan when our bodies align, the hard press of him rubbing against sensitive skin.
“I’m already late. So this is going to be hard and fast, Matthews.” That’s all the warning I get, before he’s sliding inside.
Caleb hooks my right knee over his hip, spreading me open and sinking even deeper. Before I’ve fully adjusted to the new angle, he’s withdrawing and then stretching me again, hitting the magical spot that causes my mind to go completely blank.
