“Snacks are in the kitchen,” his dad says without looking up.
“Oooh, Kit has a boyfriend,” one of the kids rolling by on a skateboard says.
“And you’re going to have a broken neck if you keep doing that,” Kit chides, narrowly missing his toes getting run over. “Dad, meet Jasper. Jasper, this is my dad, Tad.” He points to the puzzle boy. “That’s Wex.” He then points to the girl at the piano. “That’s Vesper.” His fingers waggle between the boy and girl on skateboards. “Those two are naughty mice Homeslice brought in.”
“Am not!” the boy shrieks while the girl giggles.
“Boys,” Tad chides, though not at all serious. His eyes are now sweeping down my form, studying me with quiet scrutiny. “Nice to meet you, Jasper. Your shirt’s wet.”
“Your wife soaked him,” Kit tattles.
Tad grins. “She’s a little crazy that one.” He motions for the kids rolling past us. “Bo and Quinn are the little skateboarding vermin.” He notices the way Kit holds my hand. “Boyfriend, huh?”
“They’re impossible,” Kit explains to me, not answering his dad’s question. “You just have to ignore them.”
“Hard to ignore when the Strong Force is everywhere,” Tad says, making his voice deep and cryptic like he’s announcing a sci-fi movie. “Welcome to the club.”
Kit takes me into the kitchen and leads me over to the notepad. Reluctantly, I write my mom’s information down before accepting snacks Kit shoves my way. I’m enamored by the way he babbles about everything. Once he’s eaten his fill and checked his monitor through his special watch, he takes my hand again.
We’re almost to the stairs when Tad calls out to us.
“No hanky-panky under my roof!” He cackles, reminding me of his son.
“See what I have to put up with?” Kit groans while I turn a million shades of red. “Come on. Let’s get away from the geezers and farm animals.” His voice is loud enough his dad hears, earning more laughter.
I’m slightly dazed as he points at bedrooms along the way, explaining who sleeps where. We end up in a room that’s most definitely Kit’s. It looks like a rainbow threw up all over it. Funny posters line the walls and his stuff is piled up everywhere. It’s chaotic like him and his family.
He shuts the door behind me and tosses his bag on the floor. I stand there, shifting on my feet, unsure what to do or say. After he hands me a shirt, I quickly swap it out, leaving mine on the floor.
“I need to rest a minute,” he tells me as he pulls off his man purse and sets it on the end table. I’d learned at lunch it holds all his supplies like insulin and syringes and alcohol pads. “Come have a rest, Jasper. You look like you need it.”
I am tired.
So tired.
I kick off my shoes like he does and round the bed to the other side. Once we’re both stretched out, I can’t help but turn on my side so I can see him.
“Can I see the pump again?”
Our eyes meet and his darken slightly. It makes me want to stare at his lips as he licks them, but I want to see his stomach again. He draws up the material. Gingerly, I reach out and touch the device. Then, my fingers graze over his abdominal muscles.
“That tickles,” he breathes.
“Oh,” I say, withdrawing my hand.
“I like it, though.”
The air grows thick with tension as I explore his stomach like I craved to do the moment I first saw it. Each time my fingers dance over his happy trail, he groans. I notice how hard he is in his cargo pants, which makes me hard too.
“I’m glad I met you today,” he murmurs. “You’re the most fascinating person I’ve ever met.”
I frown, jerking my gaze up to his. “Me?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m not fascinating.”
“I’ve never seen someone think so loud or wear their emotions so plainly on their face before.”
I’m that obvious to him? To other people?
“I should text my mom,” I grumble, rolling onto my back.
My screensaver is a picture of me and Julian. It hurts to look at it. I swipe my phone, quickly finding Mom’s contact info.
Me: I’m at a friend’s but I’ll be home by dinner.
Mom: Who? Which friend? Are you okay?
The urgency in her text confuses me.
Me: Kit Strong. His mom wants to have dinner with us tomorrow. She forced me to give her your number.
She doesn’t respond for a long moment even though the dots start and stop several times. Finally, she responds.
Mom: Take your time, sweetie. Enjoy your friend. We can eat without you if you’re having fun.
Me: I can’t miss meatloaf tonight.
Mom: There’ll always be leftovers. Are you sure you’re okay? I’ve never heard of this boy. Is he nice?
Me: He’s nice.
Mom: What’s he look like?
Kit scoots closer, nosily reading our texts. “She’s like my mom.”
A chuckle escapes me. “Yeah, I guess they’re all the same.”
“I like your laugh,” Kit murmurs, his breath hot and tickling my cheek.
“I like yours too.”
“Take a picture.” He leans over and I know he’s cheesin’ without having to look at him.
Flipping the camera to selfie mode, I find that my lips are curling into a grin when I see how ridiculous Kit is being with his too big smile. He reaches forward and mashes the button.
I send it to Mom.
Me: Oh, honey, he’s adorable. Have fun. Don’t let me bother you two.
“Can you send it to me?” Kit asks.
I hand my phone to him and he sets to texting himself the picture. I’m mildly annoyed when he also changes the screensaver on my phone. But, each time I look at the picture of Kit’s goofy grin, I smile too.
“Hey, Jasper?”
I set my phone on my stomach and turn to look at him. “Mmm?”
“I’m going to kiss you now.”
Jasper
His green-blue eyes sparkle with delight. Of all the guys I’ve kissed, not one has looked at me like I’m special and worthy and unique. My breath hitches when he lowers his pink, pink strawberry lips to mine.
I need the sweetness.
I need his lips.
Before he reaches me, his grin quirks up on one side as his fingers run through my hair. My hair, like Julian’s was, is light brown and wavy. Mom would get onto us when it got too long. Mine hangs over my brows lately, curling slightly around my ears and at my nape, but she doesn’t complain.
Mom doesn’t complain about anything when it comes to me anymore.
Before I’m allowed to ponder why, Kit’s lips are on mine firm and demanding. I groan, not at all surprised at his insistence. Though Kit is colorful and loud and adorably dorky, he’s absolutely my type.
Confident. Forward. Energetic.
I need someone to counteract all my wrongness. Someone opposite. Warmth to my cold. Light to my dark. Good to my…whatever it is I am.
My lips part to allow his tongue entry. We both moan when our kiss intensifies. I feel as though Kit is trying to consume me. I like it. So much. His fingers spear into my hair, tugging and stroking. It makes me want to touch him too. I run my own fingers through his hair, loving how his curls spring up once they come loose from my grip.