“Don’t kiss me,” I say.
His lips land on mine, hard. There’s nothing soft or sweet about his kiss. It’s hard and hot and I kiss him back. He sucks on my lower lip, and I nibble at his. I kiss him until some of the passion fades and I’m left with warmth and want.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” Tag whispers, his face close to mine.
I nod. “Bad idea.” I swallow so loudly I can hear it.
He tips my chin up so I have to look at him. My eyes refuse to rise and I look everywhere else. “It has been hell having you around for two weeks and not being able to touch you,” he tells me.
Finally I look at him. “What’s stopping you from touching me?”
“I want to wait. Until it’s right.”
He leans and presses his lips to my forehead, lingering there just like I did with Benji. I feel the warm rush of air from his nose as he drinks me in, just like I did with his son. Only it’s not fondness or kindness I’m feeling from him. It’s heat.
“I should go to bed,” I say.
“Yeah, you should.”
“Good night,” I whisper.
“Night,” he replies.
Instead of going to my room, I go to Lark’s. I open her door and slip inside. She’s lying in her bed listening to music with her headphones on. I fall onto the bed next to her and finally let out a breath.
She tugs her headphones from her ears and stares at me. “Have you been drinking?”
“No.” But I feel like I have.
She lifts her hand to my forehead. “No fever,” she says.
“Nope.” I look at her, and a grin breaks across my face.
“Oh, my god,” she exclaims as she sits up. “Did you meet someone?”
I’ve met so many someones that I can’t keep up with them all. “Sort of.” I wince.
Her eyes narrow. “What do you mean, sort of?”
“Tag sorta kinda just kissed me a little bit,” I blurt out. It rushes out of my mouth like wind through a tunnel.
“What!” she screeches. I cover her mouth with my hand.
“Shh!” I hiss. “He’ll hear you.”
She grins and starts to whisper. “So, how was it?”
“Perfect,” I say. My heart does a little dance in my chest.
“Oh, Finny…” She looks upset all of a sudden.
“What?”
“I was wondering how long it would take.”
My heart trips again. “What do you mean?”
“I saw him sneaking out of your room that night, Finny,” she says quietly.
“Oh.” Forgot about that.
“And I haven’t seen you bring anyone else home since then.”
“Yeah,” I breathe, wincing, “I better get on that.”
“You like him.”
“No…” I draw out the word.
“Yes, you do.”
I bury my face in my hands. I groan. “I don’t know.” I look at her finally. “Tell me what I should do.”
She lies back beside me and we both stare up at the ceiling. She takes my hand and holds it and doesn’t say anything more. The soft texture of the gloves she always wears slips across my skin.
Her breaths go soft and even and I realize she’s asleep. I get out of her bed and steel my shoulders. I’m going to tell Tag that I can’t do this. I can’t be that girl.
I go to his room and lift my knuckles to knock.
“Don’t do it,” a voice says through the crack in the door.
I freeze. “Don’t do what?”
“Don’t knock on my door.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a bad idea.”
“Okay.” I turn to go back to my own room.
The door opens and he sticks his head out. “I’ve been waiting for you to come and knock on my door so you can slap me for that kiss.”
“I wasn’t going to slap you.”
“I know.” He lays his forehead against the doorjamb of his room. “That’s what scares me.”
I nod, although I don’t understand at all. Not a bit. “Okay.”
I go to my room and he closes the door to his. I look back at his closed door for a moment.
What the fuck was that?
Finny
Music pounds in my veins like a heartbeat. It’s quick and consuming and I’m so damn hot that I’m turning myself on, and all I’m doing is dancing.
My personal security guard is standing over by the bar, pretending to nurse on a Jack and Coke, but I know it’s just diet soda. I don’t always need a security guard, but when I go out in a crowd and I’m alone, it’s best to have someone to help if things go bad. Jason’s gaze wanders around the room, and he scowls when he sees the guy I’m dancing with get a little too close. He starts to get up, but I shake my head at him. He narrows his eyes at me in a silent question.
No, I don’t need for you to come and pull him off me. This is not the one I want. The one I want smells like baby spit-up and talcum powder.
“You want to go to my place?” the guy asks, his mouth close to my ear.
I shake my head. “I just want to dance!”
Before Tag, I would have said yes to him. I would go and not think twice about it. I might come twice. Maybe more if he’s any good, but I wouldn’t even have to think about it. Yes, I might orgasm. But something tells me I would still feel empty inside after I get home. I’d shower off the scent and the feel of sex, and then I’d wrap my arms around my pillow and fall asleep.