“Yeah, that’s the scariest threat ever. You’d be sending me to a bathing suit party.”
“I know you’d rather stay here with me.”
Crap. Where did that come from?
“Fine,” he says with a smirk. “We’ll watch Mean Girls, whatever that is.”
He positions my laptop at an angle where we can both see it, then lies back on my bed, pulls his glasses from his pocket, and slips them onto his nose. I sit Indian style and lean over onto my knees. The room is quiet, except for the movie, our breathing, our laughing.
Jeremiah folds his hands behind his head. “Man, these girls are bitches.”
“I know, genius. That’s why it’s called Mean Girls.”
Without a warning, he yanks me back against his chest. “Watch the movie with me,” he whispers.
“That’s what we’re doing.” Deep down I know what he really means, and that makes my heart beat wildly, but I can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing. My thoughts and pulse are racing.
He arranges me under his arm, and I wrap my trembling hand around his middle, cozying up to him. He feels warm, but I’m shaking like it’s snowing. It’s hard work to control my breathing. We lie together in silence for what feels like hours just watching the movie, until I feel him dragging his fingertips gently up and down my arm. Up and down my spine. Is his hand shaking?
Is this what adult relationships are like? You just touch someone without first laying down the boundaries? I mean, I’ve never been in a relationship except for with Kyle, and it was slow moving and had barriers to cross. First handholding, first kiss, first make-out session, first time he took off my shirt. And with Jeremiah, I feel lost, like during personal training when I don’t know what the next exercise will be. It’s scary not knowing what’s coming.
I’m not ready for a new relationship. I don’t know if I’ll ever want one again. I don’t want to have that conversation with Jeremiah. But I don’t want him to stop tracing his fingertips up and down my arm, either. It feels soft and smooth and tingly. And being pressed up against him is sweltering.
That’s when the door opens to reveal Iggy holding what appears to be a mandolin.
“Kelsey, are you in here? Did you steal my cheetah-print bra—Oops. I didn’t know you had somebody over, Annie. Why didn’t you tie the jump rope to the door?”
“Jump rope?” Jeremiah asks, lifting his head to get a look at her.
“Did somebody steal the jump rope?” she asks, pushing her glasses up on her nose. “I knew this would happen. I can’t wait to tell Kelsey.”
“Iggy,” I say, choking back a laugh. “Could you please excuse us? We’re watching a movie.”
Her mouth forms an O. “I get it. I’ll put the jump rope on the doorknob for you.”
“No!” I say.
“Fine.” She slams the door shut.
Jeremiah raises an eyebrow. “Is the jump rope your suite’s code for sexiling?”
I swallow hard. “Yeah.”
“Mason and I have a code too,” he says. “We’re supposed to knock five times. If one of us has a girl over, we yell ‘Get lost, loser!’”
“Why don’t you hang something from the door? Kelsey says that’s what people normally do.”
“Your roommate Iggy got it right. One time Mason hung a sock on our doorknob. Someone stole the sock…and I walked in on him and some girl butt naked.”
“Ew.”
“You’re telling me.” Jeremiah takes his knit cap off, tosses it on the floor, and runs a hand through his messy hair, not meeting my eyes. His Adam’s apple shifts as he swallows. “Want to finish the movie?”
“Um, sure.”
We lie back down on the bed. And my heart starts rocketing out of my chest toward the moon. My breathing becomes labored. Not taking his eyes off the screen, he pulls me onto his chest and squeezes my shoulder. And I want him so bad I can feel it in my bones. I can feel it in the tips of my toes, in the palms of my hands, in all sorts of other tingly places. He caresses my back. I feel dampness between my legs. It would be so easy to take what I need from him, but that’s not fair because what if he wants more than just the physical?
Frankly, I shouldn’t even let him touch me. I’ll just end up hurting him.
I gently push him away. “My roommate’s gonna be back soon.”
We sit up together, the tension hanging over the room like a haze, and right then, Vanessa opens the door. A bright smile flickers on her face when she sees us together. “Whoops! Sorry to interrupt.” She closes the door and disappears within seconds.