Left Behind - Page 39/68

***

I throw a towel from the kitchen cabinet at Nikki. Not that her dripping sweat bothers me at all. In fact, there’s nothing I’d rather do at the moment than trace the beads of perspiration sliding behind her tank top between her heaving cleavage.

“Thanks, I’m ready for my smoothie,” she proudly orders not realizing the real prize was letting her stay ten feet ahead of me for two miles.

“Do you like cantaloupe?” I ask, digging through the fruit shelf in our refrigerator. “Mom is a fruit smoothie junkie, so if you prefer something else, I’m sure we have it.” I toss a cantaloupe to Nikki.

She catches it and examines it. “Never had one.”

I’m surprised, but she’s not joking. I’ve only just started to scratch the surface of Nikki’s past. Fresh fruit and family picnics probably weren’t the norm.

“Then cantaloupe and melon smoothies it is. They’re my specialty anyway.”

Nikki watches me with a smile on her face as I slice the fruit. I think a guy making her something in the kitchen is a first.

“Here, taste,” I move closer to feed her a piece of fresh sliced cantaloupe from my hand. My eyes are glued to her lips as she bites. A drop of cantaloupe juice glistens on the corner of her mouth and I use my tongue to wipe it off. Jesus, I just can’t help myself around this girl.

A soft sigh slips from her lips when I move my mouth to her warm neck, my hard-on quickly growing against her stomach as I lean in. My entire body ignites when I feel her tremble from my kiss. The memory of that tremble woke me up more than once last night.

“Zack, what if your mom comes in?” she asks, breathless, as my kisses move further up her neck.

“She won’t. She’s out at the Farmer’s Market,” I whisper into her ear. Another shudder runs through her body. “Eleven. Every Sunday,” I breathe. “Thankfully, she never misses it.”

Trying my hardest to slow things down, afraid I’ll scare her by pressing her up against the kitchen wall, which is only about two seconds away from happening, I lean back. “You taste like cantaloupe,” I say. “I can’t help it…I really, really, like cantaloupe.”

Nikki laughs. “Guess I do too now.”

I finish making our smoothies and the cool drink helps to turn down the heat in the kitchen. A little, at least. Trying to get the last bit out of the deep glass, Nikki spills the remainder of hers onto her tank top.

“God, I’m a klutz.” She laughs, totally unselfconsciously.

“I can give you a t-shirt if you want.” I grin. “In fact, I think I really like the idea of you in my t-shirt.”

Nikki blushes as our eyes meet.

“Come on up and pick one.” I start up the stairs so she doesn’t have time to consider not following.

Upstairs in my room, I pull open my drawer to reveal dozens of impeccably pressed and folded t-shirts. My mother definitely has issues.

“Wow, it looks like someone dumped a whole table from Abercrombie,” Nikki arches her right eyebrow towards my t-shirt drawer.

“Cute. You too, huh? Keller likes to take pictures and post them on Instagram to try and embarrass me. His drawers are the polar opposite. Crap sticking out all over the place. I found a half-eaten cheeseburger in one of his drawers last year.” Even a two-minute stay in my room turns to twenty minutes of him busting my balls over how neat it is. “My mother is an organization freak.”

“I’m afraid to touch one and disturb the artful presentation,” Nikki teases.

I grab the smallest t-shirt I can find, hoping it will be tight in all the right places, and toss it at her.

“Great, thanks.” She turns.

“Leaving with my shirt?” I ask.

“I was just going to look for the bathroom to change.” The pink sting is back in her cheeks as she awkwardly tries to figure out if I really expected her to undress in the middle of my room.

As much as I’d love to watch her take off her shirt, and the pink in her cheeks certainly stirs something inside me, I let her off the hook. Kissing her chastely on the lips, I say, “Change right here. I’m going to take a quick shower anyway. I have a feeling you’re being polite and not mentioning what I smell like.”

“I did make you sweat pretty hard,” she smiles.

I know she means the race but I walk over to her and say, “Yes, you really make me sweat.” She laughs and pushes me towards the door.

***

Five minutes later I find Nikki in my room with that old t-shirt of mine on. It’s as tight as I expected, a perfect fit for my liking.

“I borrowed your brush too. Tried to do something with this mess of hair,” She runs her fingers through her now loose, shiny hair.

“It’s beautiful,” I say as I reach her space and quickly invade it.

She’s backed against my desk chair and only feet from my bed. The trouble alarm is going off at a blaring volume in my head. But the need to touch her again, feel her body against mine like it was last night, outweighs any concern about where things might lead to. My thumb brushes her parted lips and my body responds instantly when she lets out a low gasp with a sharp intake of breath. Screw it— concern about where things might lead quickly turns to hope that they will. Just as I lean in, Nikki dodges my kiss and turns to my desk. Nervously, aiming to lighten the moment, she lifts something, dangling it from her finger with a cheeky grin. “Aren’t we a little old for a Batman mask, Zack?”