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“Worth it,” he murmurs against my skin. “Can I touch your stomach?”
I gasp a little. The fact that he’s asking is even sexier than if he already was.
The problem is that I know I should say no. Not because I don’t want to, but because this is too risky. And we really need to work. Plus, I feel gross after sitting on this ancient carpet all day. And I’m wearing some comfortable granny panties that don’t show any lines with my leggings. Obviously, there are more cons than pros.
Which is why I sigh a “yes.”
Even though it makes him chuckle, he wastes no time sneaking his hand under the layers of clothes to find the skin he seeks. His hand is so big that, even without splaying it, it spans most of my stomach. He explores no further, which is both disappointing and relieving. It’s almost like he craves intimacy, but little by little. I’m fine with that. I plan to keep him around for a long, long time. There’s no hurry.
As his thumb strokes my skin, he says, “I’ve heard people say that consent is sexy.”
“Hmm, sure is.”
“So I wanted to tell you that you have my consent.”
As the pause grows longer, I twist a little until I can look up into his eyes. “What for?”
“Whatever you want. Whenever you want.”
My mouth unhinges. His lips are curled into a little smile that has the power to raise goose bumps all over my skin once more. It’s the smile that shows that one dimple. Meanwhile, his eyes are darkened with very obvious hunger. And not for food.
“Uh…”
“You can touch me where and whenever you want.” He shrugs, like he’s talking about our assignment. “Not in circumstances that will get us in jail or something, but you know what I mean. And, of course, I’ll wait until you’re ready too, because, again, consent is sexy.”
The way he grins, so cheeky and with a touch of shyness, sends my heart into a faster pitter-patter than even his words do. If not for this damn assignment, I’d take him up on the offer.
I have to shake my head hard to rattle my brain back in place.
“How about—” I stop to clear the rasp away from my voice. “How about we save this for a later date? After finals, maybe?”
His eyebrows twitch. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
“Great.” I turn all the way until I’m kneeling in front of him. He has the hood up over his head, wisps of black hair escaping their confines and framing his face. I clear them out of the way and place a soft kiss on his forehead. “Can we get back to working now?”
Max frowns. “My plan has been foiled.”
“Stop being so adorable and get back to work.”
It’s quite amusing to see the hulking figure of my boyfriend tip tap away on his tiny laptop. Especially because he can’t stop frowning down at the screen.
Two more coffees later, and we finally finish the presentation. The sleek and didactic slides are the brainchild of one Max Cassiano, who turns out to have a knack for this kind of thing. Additionally, the content is concise but robust. There is not a single weak area. The numbers are perfect, and the storyboard is compelling. I would give us an A freaking plus. I really want to see the lecturer say that we’re still not at the right level after this.
It’s two in the morning by the time we leave the library. Under the light of the streetlamp, I can see that Max’s nose is red. I probably look like a mess, with my mop of hair in a messy bun atop my head and more layers of clothing than a single person should have. Even then, my S’more looks down at me like he can’t get enough.
We stop at the entrance of my dorm building, and for a long time, it’s impossible to let go of each other’s hands. Little by little, we’ve tried. Now we’re down to linked pinkies. A few days without him last week were enough to convince me that, nope, I don’t want to be apart from this man for a whole second again. He has stolen my whole heart. I only feel again when I’m close to him. It’s not like hockey’s any less important, like I feared. I just have him to share it with now.
“I’ll wear a business suit in St. Cloud blue tomorrow,” I say. My breath fogs up the vision of him for a moment, and I resent the air. “You’re absolutely going to fall in love with me when you see it.”
He tilts his head. “What makes you think I haven’t already?”
The night is absolutely quiet. All I hear is the drumming of my own heart in my ears. “Max.”
Smiling, he leans down to press his lips to mine for just a second. Then his pinky lets go. “I’ll wear a matching tie. See you in the morning, Tinker Bell.”
I watch him walk away until the cold seeps into my bones.
It takes me far too long to find sleep after that, and what little I catch is restless. When I close my eyes, I can still see us sitting in the library. Just as the dreams are about to turn saucier than real life, they shift until I’m standing in front of the classroom, bombing the presentation so badly that Max decides to break up with me.
