This is a first. A kiss and a laugh at the same time? I think I might be in heaven.
“Six has a bedroom too, you know,” Holder says.
Six stops laughing. And she stops kissing me.
Holder is about to be put on my shit list.
“Six doesn’t allow penises in her bedroom,” I reply to him while still staring down at her.
Six moves her mouth to my ear. “As long as you don’t expect me to stroke his ego tonight, I kind of want to kiss you on my bed.”
I didn’t know people could move as fast as I’m moving right now. This has to be some sort of record, because my hands are under her back and knees and I’m scooping her up in my arms before her sentence even completely registers. She throws her arms around my neck and squeals as I head straight for Sky’s window. I put her down gently, but then practically shove her outside. I begin to follow right behind her without even telling Sky or Holder goodbye.
“They are so strange together,” I hear Sky say right before I’m out the window.
“Yeah,” Holder says in agreement. “But also oddly . . . right.”
I pause.
Did Holder just compliment my relationship with Six? I don’t know why I always want his approval so much, but hearing him say that fills me with this weird sense of pride. I turn around and take a step back to the window and lean inside. “I heard that.”
He looks at the window and sees me leaning inside, so he rolls his eyes. “Go away,” he says with a laugh.
“No. We’re having a moment.”
He cocks an eyebrow, but doesn’t respond.
“You’re my best friend, Holder.”
Sky shakes her head and laughs, but Holder is still looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“For real,” I say. “You’re my best friend and I love you. I’m not ashamed to admit that I love a guy. I love you, Holder. Daniel Wesley loves Dean Holder. Always and forever.”
“Daniel, go make out with your girlfriend,” he says, waving me off.
I shake my head. “Not until you tell me you love me, too.”
His head falls back against Sky’s headboard. “I fucking love you, now GO AWAY!”
I grin. “I love you more.”
He picks up a pillow and tosses it at the window. “Get the hell out of here, dipshit. ”
I laugh and back away from the window.
“You two are so strange together,” Sky says to him.
I pull the window shut, then turn around to face Six. She’s already in her bedroom, leaning out her window with her chin in her hands. She’s grinning.
“Daniel and Holder, sittin’ in a tree,” she says in a singsong voice.
I walk toward her and improvise the next line of the song. “But then Daniel climbs down,” I finish the rest of the sentence in a hurry, “and goes to Six’s window and climbs inside her bedroom and throws her on the bed and kisses her until he can’t take any more and has to go home and stroke his ego.”
She’s laughing and backing into her bedroom to make room for me to climb inside.
Once I’m inside, I look around and observe her room. I finally understand what she meant when she said my bedroom was more than just a room. This is like a secret glimpse into who Six really is. I feel like I could study this room and everything in it and find out everything I ever need to know about her.
Unfortunately, she’s standing at the foot of her bed and she looks a little bit nervous and way more beautiful than I deserve, and I can’t take my eyes off of her long enough to even study her bedroom.
I can’t help but smile at her. I can already tell this is about to be the best anniversary I’ve ever had. The lights are off, so the mood is already perfect for making out. It’s quiet, though. So quiet I can hear her breaths increase with each deliberately slow step I take toward her.
Shit. Maybe those are my breaths. I can’t tell, because every inch closer I get requires an extra intake of air.
When I reach her, she’s looking up at me with an odd mixture of peaceful anticipation. I want to push her onto the bed right now and climb on top of her and kiss the hell out of her.
I could do that, but why do the one thing she’s expecting me to do?
I lean in slowly. Very slowly . . . until my mouth is so close to her neck she more than likely can’t even tell if I’m touching her skin or not. “I have three questions I need to ask you before we do this,” I say quietly, but very seriously. I pull back just far enough to see her gulp softly.
“Before we do what?” she asks hesitantly.
I lift a hand to the back of her head, then pull back from her neck and position my lips close to hers. “Before we do what we both want to do. Before I lean in one more inch. And before you part your lips for me just enough for me to steal a taste. Before I put my hands on your hips and back you up until you have nowhere to go but onto your bed.”
I can feel her breath teasing my lips and it’s so tempting I have to force myself to lean in to her ear again so I’m not so close to her mouth. “Before I slowly lower myself on top of you and our hands become curious and brave. Before my fingers slip under the hem of your shirt. Before my hand begins to explore its way up your stomach, and I discover I’ve never touched skin as soft as yours.”
She gasps, then exhales a shaky breath and it’s almost as sexy as the fist bump.
It may even be sexier.
“Before I finally get to touch your boob on purpose.”
She laughs at that one, but her laugh is cut short when I press my thumb to the center of her lips.
“Before your breaths pick up pace and our bodies are aching because everything we’re feeling is just making us want more and more and more of each other . . . until I’m afraid I’ll beg you not to ask me to slow down. So instead, I regrettably tear my mouth from yours and force myself away from your bed and you lift up unto your elbows and look at me, disappointed, because you kind of wished I would have kept going, but at the same time you’re relieved I didn’t, because you know you would have given in. So instead of giving in, we just stare. We watch each other silently as my heart rate begins to slow down and your breaths are easier to catch and the insatiable need is still there, but our minds are clearer now that I’m not pressed against you anymore. I turn around and walk to your window and leave without even saying goodbye, because we both know if either of us speaks . . . it’ll be the collective demise of our willpower and we’ll cave. We’ll cave so hard.”
I move my hand to her cheek. She whimpers and looks like she’s about to collapse onto the bed, so I wrap my other arm around her lower back and pull her against me.
“So yeah . . . three questions first.”
I let go of her and immediately turn around two seconds before I hear her fall onto her bed. I walk straight to the desk chair and take a seat, for two reasons. One, I want her to think I mean business and that everything I just said to her didn’t affect me like it did her. And two, because I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything and my knees were about to give out on me if I didn’t sit down.
“Question number one,” I say, watching her from across her room. She’s lying on her back with her eyes closed and I hate that I’m not watching her up close right now. “When’s your birthday?”
“October . . .”—She clears her throat, obviously still recovering—“thirty-first. Halloween.”
How could the date of a birthday make me fall even harder for her? I have no idea, but it somehow does.
“Question number two. What’s your favorite food?”
“Homemade mashed potatoes.”
Never would have guessed that one. Glad I asked.
“Question number three,” I say. “It’s a big one. Are you ready?”
She nods, but keeps her eyes closed.
“What’s the one thing in this room that tells the biggest secret about you?”
As soon as the question leaves my mouth, she’s completely still. Her exaggerated breaths come to a halt. She remains motionless for almost a whole minute before she slowly pushes herself up until she’s seated on the edge of the bed, facing me. “It has to be something inside this room?”
I nod slowly.
She lifts her hand and touches a finger to her heart, pointing at it. “This,” she whispers. “My biggest secret is right in here.”
Her eyes are moist and sad and somehow with that answer, the air instantly changes between us. In a dangerous way. A terrifying way. Because it feels like her air just became my air and I suddenly want to take in fewer breaths in order to ensure she never runs out.
I stand up and walk to the bed. Her eyes follow me closely until I’m directly in front of her. “Stand up.”
She stands slowly.
I weave both hands through the locks of her hair until I’m holding the back of her head. I stare at her until my heart can’t take anymore, then I press my lips to hers. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve kissed her over the past day. Every time I kiss her, the feeling I get is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. The closest I’ve ever come to feeling this way is the day I was pretending to be in love with the girl in the closet. But even that day, the day I thought would surpass every day after it, doesn’t come close to this.
Her mouth is warm and inviting and everything it always is when I kiss her, but it’s also so much more. The fact that I have this reaction to her after one day scares the living shit out of me.
One day.
I’ve been doing this with her for one day and I have no idea what’s happening. I don’t know if it’s a full moon or if I have a tumor wrapped around my heart or if she really is a witch. Whatever it is still doesn’t explain how this kind of thing can exist between two people this ridiculously fast . . . and actually last.
I feel like deep down my heart knows she’s too good to be true. My mind and my whole body know she’s too good to be true, so I kiss her harder, hoping to convince myself that this is real. It’s not some fairy tale. It’s not an hour of make-believe.
This is reality, but even in our imperfect reality, people don’t fall for each other like this. They don’t develop feelings like this for someone they barely know.
The only thing my entire thought process is proving to me right now is how much I need to grab her tight and hang on, because wherever she goes, I want to go, too. And right now, she’s going backward, down onto the bed. I’m easing myself on top of her in the same way I just told her this would happen. And we’re kissing, just like I said we would, only this time it may just be a little more frantic and needy and holy shit.
Her skin.
It really is the softest skin I’ve ever touched.
I move my hand from her waist and inch my fingers underneath the hem of her shirt, then slowly begin to work my way to her stomach.
She pushes my hand away.
“Daniel.”
She immediately lifts up and I immediately lift off her. She’s breathing so heavily I catch myself holding my own breath, scared I’m hogging too much of her air.
