“What could you possibly have to be insecure about?”
I stared at him, boggled. “What could I—? I’m-I’m—I stutter, for one thing, in c-c-case you haven’t n-noticed. It’s embarrassing. I’m the shortest girl in our class, for another. Plus, I’ve got hips a mile wide, and I’m freaking top-heavy to boot.” I batted at my loose mop of springy curls. “And my hair looks like I sss-stuck a pair of scissors in a power outlet.”
Jason glared at me as if I’d insulted him instead of myself. He shoved his door open angrily, left it wide with the bell dinging, crossed in front of the headlight, and stalked toward me. I wasn’t afraid of him, per se, but the intense, determined look in his eyes and the purposeful gait of his walk intimidated me. I backed away from him, stumbling as the truck door closed behind me. He pinned me against the truck with his body, and his hands landed on the upper bell of my hips.
“You’re not allowed to talk about yourself like that, Becca. You understand me?” His eyes darkened. “You’re beautiful. You’re sexy. You’re so hot it takes my breath away. I don’t understand how I could have ever seen anyone else before now. Your hips are perfect, and to a guy, ‘top-heavy’ is a good thing, and you are top-heavy in the best possible way. You have an amazing body, Becca. A-maze-ing. And your stutter? It’s just part of who you are to me. It doesn’t bother me.”
I buried my face against his chest, sure he was just mollifying me. “And my hair?”
He tangled his fingers in my hair, burrowing through the curls as if he was scooping up handfuls of gold coins and letting them run through his fingers. Then he twined his fingers through a hank of curls and tugged my head back, gently but inexorably, so I was forced to look at him.
“I love your hair.”
He said the “L” word. About my hair, but he said it.
And then he kissed me. My toes curled in my pastel-purple Keds. Jesus God, the boy could kiss.
He let me go after that, and watched me disappear into the trees. I heard the low rumble of his idling engine and saw as I glanced behind me the pale yellow glow of his headlights. I stood at the bottom of the drainpipe, staring at Ben’s window two floors up. There was no way in hell I’d make it up. Getting down was a matter of holding on and letting gravity do its thing. I took a deep breath and focused on the first handhold, nailed through the siding to whatever was beneath it. I grabbed it in both hands and pulled with all my strength. I didn’t even get off the ground.
I pulled, jumped, strained, cursed, and only managed to get myself sweaty. That was when I realized I was still wearing Jason’s hoodie.
My phone buzzed in my purse at that moment. I pulled it out and read Jason’s text: Been a few minutes. You back in your room yet?
I typed my response without thinking about it: No. I climbed down a drainpipe and can’t make it back up. Quit laughing IT’S NOT FUNNY.
I was still waiting for Jason’s text back and trying to figure out how I was going to get in when I heard a stick snap behind me. I whirled to see Jason gliding toward me from between the trees. He came to stand next to me and stared up the drainpipe that was my current nemesis.
“That could be a problem. I think I’d have trouble scaling that.” He put his hand on the pipe and wiggled it, testing it, nodding as if satisfied by its sturdiness. “I could give you a boost?”
“I don’t know. Then I’d be stuck halfway up. I’m just not strong enough to climb up.”
“Do you have a house key?” Jason asked.
“Well, yeah, but Father sets the alarm at night, and I don’t know the code.”
“Then how’d you get out without it going off? Alarm systems usually include windows.”
I was stumped. “I don’t know. I didn’t consider that. Maybe Ben disabled his window somehow.”
“This is Ben’s window?”
“Yeah. He’s the one who put those pieces of wood there as hand- and footholds.”
Jason examined the pipe again. “Oh, I didn’t see those at first. Clever.” He grinned at me. “Ben must sneak out a lot then, huh?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, he does.”
“So how does he get back in?”
I stared at Jason. “Um? I have no clue. I didn’t think about that, either. I’m not very experienced at this whole delinquency thing.”
“I guess not,” Jason said, smirking at me. “I’m a bad influence on you, clearly.”
“Yeah, maybe a little,” I admitted. “But I like it. I feel free. This was fun. Now, if only I could get back in.”
“Does your brother have a cell phone? Could you text him and see if he could help you?” He glanced back at the pipe once more, as if trying to work out some way to get me up it. “I still think you could do it if I gave you a boost.”
“You just want an excuse to touch my ass.” I went to the pipe and grabbed the handhold a few feet above my head, stretching up on my tiptoes to do so.
Jason sidled up behind me, and my breath caught as his hands grazed over the taut curve of my ass in my jeans. “Do I need an excuse?”
I twisted my head around to meet his gaze. “Yes, you do. We’re not at the ‘grope Becca’s ass whenever you want’ stage yet, buster, so hands off.” I tried to keep a serious face, but couldn’t.
He rested his hands on the swell of my hips, faking a pout. “Fine. Be that way. Deny me the joy of your glorious backside, then.”
I gave him a disbelieving look. “Glorious? You really think it’s glorious?”
He took this as an invitation, which I guess it was, in a way, to resume touching me on the object in question. “Hmmm. Let me see.” He smoothed his hands over my ass, exploring the expanse of it over the denim. “Yep. That’s for sure the right word. You, my dear, have a glorious ass.”
I felt myself blushing, but I didn’t stop his exploration. “I’m glad you think so.”
His voice grew serious, and his hands resumed their place at my hips. “Am I…pushing you too fast?”
I leaned back against him. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I like it—I like it all. I like letting you touch me, but part of me says you shouldn’t. But that’s my parents’ über-conservative upbringing speaking, I think. I like kissing you. I like sneaking out with you.” I sighed. “I’ve never done anything daring, anything against the rules. I’ve been good my whole life. I like being a little bad with you.”