He manages to make what what’s happening between us sound dirty, and maybe that’s because I’m thinking vaguely dirty things, I don’t know.
“Please?” I don’t want to beg, but he needs to know I’m serious about this. I really, really need to talk to him. Or…whatever with him.
“Come on.” He pushes away from the wall and I follow after him, my gaze drinking him in just like he did to me only moments ago. He’s wearing a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans, nothing special about his outfit whatsoever, but he somehow makes it look extra good. The T-shirt is kind of tight, so it stretches across his chest and back, and the jeans mold to his legs and butt perfectly.
As in, he has a perfect butt.
Oh my God, I feel like a complete perv.
I follow him through an open door, down a short hallway, until we’re tucked away into an alcove that I didn’t even know existed. Of course Ash knows about this place. He probably brings girls here all the time so they can make out—
He pulls me into his arms and does just that. Kisses me. He pushes me against the wall, his body pressed tight against mine. His body is hard, hard, hard and his mouth his soft, soft, soft.
So soft.
When his tongue sneaks out to flicker against my lips, I gasp, allowing him entry. He deepens the kiss, his hand going up to cradle my cheek, his other hand gripping my waist as our tongues tangle and twist. This is my first real kiss and it’s nothing like I thought it would be. All sweet, shy presses of lips and blushing cheeks, tentative touches and lots of awkward fumbling.
No, he’s practically devouring me and I’m devouring him right back. Everything inside of me ratchets up, higher and higher. Hotter and hotter. My hands are in his hair and it’s just as soft and silky as it looks. His hand slides down to cup my butt, tugging me even closer to him, and when his knee presses in between my legs, I gasp again. Louder this time.
He breaks the kiss, staring down at me, his chest rising and falling with his rapidly panting breaths. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
I blink up at him, sliding one hand down his neck to press against his chest. “Wh-what?”
One side of his mouth lifts in a smile. “That’s what you said. You wanted to talk.”
“I didn’t—want to talk,” I admit, sinking my teeth into my lower lip.
He groans, positively agonized, and the power that whips through me at the sound leaves me breathless. “Fuck, you make me crazy, Callahan.”
Still calling me by my last name when I’m in his arms. It’s so frustrating. I’m about to call him out on it when he kisses me again, making me forget what I wanted to say.
Making me forget everything.
We’re like this for minutes. For what feels like hours, until I can feel my phone buzzing in the back pocket of my jeans and I know one of my friends—probably Kaya—is looking for me. I shove Ash away and pull my phone out to see I have about a bazillion texts from her.
Autumn.
Where are you?
Why aren’t you answering your phone?
I’d accuse you of sneaking off with Ben but he’s sitting right next to me.
Autumn?
AUTUMN!
Where the hell are you??????????
Hurriedly I type out a text, batting Ash’s hands away from me when he tries to make a grab for my waist again. Sorry, be there in a minute!
The less I say, the better.
“I have to go,” I tell him once I shove my phone into my pocket again.
He doesn’t release his hold on me. Nope, he rests his hands on my waist and leans in, dropping delicate, damp kisses along my neck. Holy shit, that feels so good. “Not yet,” he murmurs against my throat.
I shove at him, but that’s like shoving at a steel wall. “Ash. Seriously.”
“There you go again with the seriously.” He lets me push him away, and he watches me, his swollen lips parted, his dark eyes hooded. His hair is a mess from my hands and he just had his tongue in my mouth only moments ago, and I can feel the warmth seep into me as I realize what just happened. I made out with Ash Davis. “When are you going to admit that you have a crush on me and not Ben?”
His question lures me out of my kiss-drunken state, and I blink at him, hating how he’s trying to make me confess I have a crush on him first. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Do you have a crush on me?” My heart is thumping so hard I swear it feels like it’s climbing up my throat, ready to fly out of my mouth when I speak.
His hand rises, and he tugs on his bottom lip. “I don’t know.”
I.
Don’t.
Know.
Frustration ripples through me, and I turn on my heel, making my way back into the gym where the dance is still going on. He follows after me, his fingers circling around my wrist, and I let him turn me around so I’m facing him.
“Why are you leaving?” He looks confused as hell.
Nice. I’m confused as hell too.
“Why can’t you say how you feel?” The words blurt out of me as if I have no control, but I need to know. Why can’t he tell me he likes me? What’s the big deal?
Of course, I can barely confess my feelings to him. I don’t understand my feelings for him either. I hate him.
I like him.
I’m drawn to him.
He repulses me.
Sometimes, I think I repulse him too.
“I don’t really know how to feel…anything,” he admits, and I know from the look on his face, his body language, that he means every word he says.
“Then neither do I,” I lie before I run back into the gym.
Fighting back tears the rest of the night.
Junior Year
Nine
I’m a different person this year. I don’t bother chasing after boys who don’t know how to feel anymore. Talk about a waste of my time. Instead, I stick with the good ones, the solid ones who are there for you no matter what. Who don’t push too hard and are easygoing to the point that sometimes I feel like the pushy one. The one who pokes and prods and makes too many demands.
But Ben Murray doesn’t ever seem to mind. We’ve been together for six months. Since March, when I asked him to the Sadie’s dance and he eagerly said yes. After the homecoming dance fiasco aka makeout session with Ash, I sort of withdrew from boys in general. I kept them all at a distance, figuring that none of them knew how to feel. I considered talking to Mom about it, but she’d only make excuses for Ash, so that wouldn’t work. No way in hell could I talk to Dad. He had a thing for Ash I didn’t quite understand, plus he doesn’t want to hear me talking about kissing his future star quarterback.
Not that I want to tell Dad anything like that.
I fed Kaya bits and pieces but never told her exactly what happened between Ash and me. How could I? I still don’t quite understand it myself.
So I focused on school for the rest of my sophomore year, just as my parents wanted, and my report cards reflected that. I’m in student leadership this year, along with still being on the cheer team. I’m also taking advanced courses, so my homework load is major, but I’m making it happen. Ben’s a big help. He’s really smart and we actually go on study dates. I know my parents don’t believe that’s actually what we’re doing, but guess what?