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“Maybe.” Her gaze doesn’t waver, and damn if that doesn’t make me want to kiss her.
“Then let’s not pretend for a second.” Before I overthink it, I lean to kiss her. Our lips meet, but it does nothing to squelch this burning desire. This never-ending aching need to have her. Images of her flushed face as she orgasmed on top of me consume my mind, and my dick stiffens right here on the sidewalk, but I don’t care. I can’t get enough of this girl.
We break away, breathless. The night wraps around us, full of secrets and unspoken promises.
I like that we got to know each other better. Deeper. But what I want right now is to get to know her better naked.
“You want to take this back to my place?”
“Are you asking for sex, Dashing Duke?”
I groan at the nickname but flash her a smile. “I’m asking for whatever you’ll give me.”
“Lead the way, Captain.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
AMANDA
The door swings open,chased by a frantic Maddy. Her arms are laden with grocery bags while she juggles the mail in one hand and her protein drink, some fancy concoction of greens and whey she insists gives her energy, in the other.
“Hey!” Her voice is chipper for a Monday evening. Too chipper. I immediately become alert.
I watch as she kicks the door closed with a practiced heel, not missing a beat in her multitasking ballet. She sips between sentences while hustling toward the kitchen.
“Why didn’t you tell me Blake was flying you guys to see your grandma?” She arches an eyebrow over her freckled cheek.
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. How’d she even know about that?
“I’m waiting.” She sets the groceries down with a flourish, her fiery curls bouncing with her every move. She turns toward me, hands on her hip, and waits for my answer. That’s when I take in her appearance—like really take notice. She looks like she’s stepped out of a commercial for the perfect college life—sporty leggings clinging to long legs, a tank top that’s both a fashion statement and a flex of toned arms. Even her sneakers look like they’ve just sprinted through a magazine spread for a new gym.
“You look rather sporty. Have you been working out?”
Her face pales as she glances down at her clothes but then shakes her head. “Nuh-uh. You’re not turning the conversation around to me. I want to know why you never told me about your Thanksgiving plans.”
“There hasn’t been a chance to talk. You were gone most of the day yesterday.”
She takes a sip of her drink and eyes me. “I’m trying to decide if that’s a valid excuse.”
I laugh while hunched over the coffee table, surrounded by a fortress of textbooks and papers. “It’s going to have to be since it’s the truth.”
“What are you doing, anyway?” she asks while putting away the groceries.
“I’m organizing my study schedule for finals.” I tap the pen against my lip as I look at my pretty calendar. Finals aren’t that far off, and I needed to get a grasp on my schedule. Highlighters in every shade make a rainbow arc as I scribble down dates, topics, and study intervals. It’s more art than science at this point.
Maddy flops down next to me. She tosses her sneakers onto the floor, one bouncing off the other with a satisfying thud.
“So it’s true then?” She pulls her legs up beneath her and takes another slurp of her disgusting smoothie. “Blake’s really going with you to Boston for Thanksgiving?”
“Yes, but seriously, I haven’t told anyone. How’d you find out?” I move my notebook out of her way.
“That’s not important.” Maddy nudges me with her knee. “What’s going on with you two?”
“Nothing, trust me.”
“Girl, please. It’s more than nothing. Blake Morton giving you the royal treatment is straight out of a romance novel.”
“You make it sound way more glamorous than what actually happened. Blake’s just trying to get out of his family’s dinner. He assumed I’d be flying back home for the holiday, and now he’s committed to see it through.”
