She’s not telling me to stop. And I know she would if she wanted to—Avery doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to do. So I push my luck a little more, and move my lips close to her shoulder first, then her neck. I blow lightly, and every tiny hair on her neck obeys. She sucks in one more short breath, and the sound of it makes me smile.
I spare a glance over her shoulder just to confirm we’re alone, and we are. No one is interested in us—we’re off in our own universe. Matt and Josh are snoring at the table, and I’m pretty sure Ben left with that girl from earlier.
“So you and I…we made a bet,” I whisper in her ear. “You remember the terms?”
Avery nods yes slowly, her lips still barely parted, and her breaths becoming quicker, no doubt to match her pulse. What I’m about to do is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. But I have to do it.
“We said if you lost, you had to let me kiss you, right?” I say, my thumb slowly stroking the skin along her neck, slipping barely under the collar of her shirt until I touch the strap of her bra. My touch makes her quiver again, and I almost change my mind.
“I won, didn’t I, Avery?” I say her name, because I want her to hear me call her by it—not Birdie. When she goes home tonight, I want her to think of something entirely new, a new beginning. And I don’t want any of those old memories tainting it.
Avery nods lightly, her tongue sweeping over the center of her lips and driving me f**king mad! I breathe in slowly, and will myself to go on.
“I’m going to kiss you then,” I say, moving both of my hands to either side of her face, cradling it until my fingers are woven deep within her hair, and she’s completely under my control. My thumb glides slowly across her lips, stopping at the center, and pausing for just a second, almost begging her to let it inside, to taste it. I move my lips closer now, too, and I turn my head, just enough so she can feel it—anticipate my touch.
I let my nose graze against hers and then along her cheek, while I slowly turn her head to the side so I can press my lips to her ear once again. I inhale her scent, and this time, I memorize it—just in case this was it, my only moment. Then I speak against her ear, my lips touching her just enough to ignite an unbelievable desire to bite her gently.
“But I’m not going to kiss you now,” I say, my eyes closed while I hope like hell this is the right move. “I get to kiss you, but I didn’t say when. And right now, you’re not ready. Don’t think this means I don’t want to kiss you. Because I do—I want to kiss you so goddamned hard that you can barely breathe. And one day—one day really f**king soon—I’m going to. But not tonight. Instead, tonight, I’m just going to thank my lot in life for the fact that I grew up in a bar, learning how to throw darts.”
When I let her go, she keeps her eyes closed for another second or two before opening them, and I’m convinced I made the right choice when I see the disappointment on her face. That’s what I want—I want her to want me to kiss her again. I could kick myself for taking it for granted the first time, and I’ll never make that mistake again.
Her eyes are trained on mine the moment she opens them; I just push my hands in my pockets, shrug my shoulders, and give her the sincerest smile I’ve got. Then, I watch her spin around and walk away, pushing hard against the kitchen door, and vanishing—probably leaving through the back just to avoid me.
And that’s okay. Because I know even though she didn’t confront me, I’m in her head. I’m deep in her head—and she’s going to have a hard time shaking this one.
Chapter 9: The New Kid
Avery
“No, Claire, he didn’t kiss me; that’s what I said,” my friend keeps replaying my story to her over and over—hoping that one of these times it ends with Mason kissing me. But it doesn’t. It doesn’t, because Mason likes to play games, and that’s all this is. A distraction.
“Okay, well…are you guys going to go out sometime?” she asks.
“No. That was it—just that stupid game of darts, and an almost kiss. That’s where the story ends,” I say, looking for my orange headband to pull my hair back. I have to get Max to school—school. I don’t have time to be rehashing what ifs and do I think Mason likes me with Claire…like we’re at a slumber party.
“I don’t get it,” Claire starts, and I can tell she’s going to dive into another round of analyzing, so I stop her.
“I don’t get it either, Claire. But I’m done worrying about it. I have to get Max ready. I’ll call you later,” I pinch the phone between my shoulder and chin so I can slide my headband on while my friend says goodbye.