“Okay. We’ll have to get a giant cake to share since we’re only a week apart.”
“That will give us something to look forward to when we’re dying in chemistry. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that class.”
“Yeah, that’s going to kick my ass. Promise me we’ll suffer together.” I cradled the phone against my shoulder and held up my hands like I was praying.
She laughed. “I promise to drag you through hell with me.”
“Hey, now that Sean is all into you, does that mean he’s going to carry your books for you?” I said, joking.
“He damn well better.”
I slouched my body in relief. “Thank God, I was getting so tired of doing it last year.”
“Whatever,” she scoffed. “You never carried my books.”
We both laughed until a heavy silence filled the line. Looking across at her, I had to ask about what worried me the most. “We still going to have time to hang out, no matter what?”
“Always.” Her soft smile and easy answer soothed me.
I lifted my hand and pressed it to the window pane. She did the same on hers.
“Night, Kev.”
“Night, Ana.”
Chapter Nine
Ana
His lips pressed to mine gently. Barely brushing against each other, full of hesitance. Which was insane since we’d been kissing for a couple of months now. I wanted to lean in and press my lips firmly to his, grip his shirt in my hands and have him shove me back against the car door. Feel the curves of the plastic digging into my back as he took me. Maybe even bite my lips. The thought of asking or pushing for more made my cheeks flush. Especially when I imagined his eyes might widen and his lip would curl in disgust. Instead, I settled in and resigned myself.
It was like kissing a cloud. Not like it was taking me to heaven, but rather like I was kissing nothing. It was soft, airy, and barely there.
“Is this okay?” Sean asked when his hand rested on my neck, pulling me in a tiny bit closer. It was the third time he’d asked. Every move he made needed to be approved by me. More decisions I needed to make and I was tired of it. But I liked Sean, and I enjoyed my time with him. I loved the way he made me laugh and always gave me his attention.
Even though months later, I still couldn’t forget the words Kev had said to me that night over the phone about how he would’ve kissed me. His voice deep, the vibrations somehow carrying across the space between us and shaking me to my core. He’d been joking, of course, but I couldn’t help but imagine the rough description every time Sean lightly brushed his lips to mine, asking for approval.
Sean’s hand gliding up my thigh, bunching the skirt of my dress a little, brought me back to the moment. His thumb brushed an exposed patch of skin and he groaned. Actually groaned. A small flicker of hope sparked in my chest when he pressed his lips harder into mine. His tongue pushed into my mouth and I opened, letting him take what he wanted from me. When his large hand gripped my thigh tightly, I moaned, wanting more.
But he pulled back, breathing heavily. “I’m so sorry. I went too far.”
“No,” I spoke with barely masked desperation. Two months was a long time to go with soft, gentle kisses and nothing more. I reached across the console and tried to pull him back to me. “It’s okay.” I tried to reassure him.
“No, no.” He pressed his back into the driver’s seat and took a deep breath, regaining the composure I wish he would let loose. I knew I lost the battle when he blew out a heavy breath and turned to me with a smile, reaching for my hand. “We should head in. We have reservations.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, wondering if he could hear the disappointment in my voice.
We walked in to the fancy Italian restaurant. Sean always took me somewhere nice on dates. He took me to one the highest rated restaurants in Cincinnati for my seventeenth birthday earlier this month. Said I deserved the best. He was one of those guys at St. Agatha’s who wasn’t there on a scholarship or grant. Both his parents were doctors and Sean never worked for anything. Not that it showed in who he was as a person. He was nice and humble and always grateful for his experiences. He really was a good guy who treated me great. He just wasn’t what I’d expected. I’d assumed he’d be the kind of guy who pushed for a more sexual relationship to notch onto his bedpost, and I’d held back a little in the beginning. But he’d shown me nothing but respect—maybe too much—and patience. Around everyone else, he put on a tough exterior, and I’d figured he would’ve been more forward with me. The shy hesitance had been a surprise.