“I’m trying.” My body buzzes with his proximity and the fact that he sometimes gives me secret kisses. I wonder if that’s why he came here tonight. To take more of my firsts. My fingers trail up his stomach, a bit of black ink peeks from under his shirt, and I can’t help but lift it the rest of the way. I suck in a breath. His abs. Holy. Shit. The taunt muscles bunch and twitch under my touch. I grin up at him. “Ticklish?”
He glances down at me with a smirk. “What are you doing?”
“Checking out your tattoos.”
His eyes darken and he shifts, sitting up and bringing me with him. He lifts his shirt over his head, revealing the ten or so pieces covering his chest. They vary in size, but they’re all black, and they’re all perfectly Devin. I trace the MT over his heart as mine breaks. My parents may not have always been perfect, but at least they’re alive.
He catches my hand in his and moves it over to a different piece. This one is a guitar, splattered with paint stains, and a rose etched in the wood grain. My eyes snap to his, and if I wasn’t sure before, I know without a doubt now, I’m falling for this boy. “I thought you didn’t like me drawing flowers all over your stuff?”
“That was before you moved away.” He reaches for his shirt and slips it back over his head. I frown and he bops me on the nose. “Are you objectifying me, Veronica?”
“You’re the one who broke into my room and accosted me with your abs,” I say, leaning back against the headboard.
He chuckles, lying on his side, his head propped up by his hand. “True. Probably should have stayed at the park.”
“I like that you missed me enough to leave your party. It’s good for a girl’s ego.”
“Yeah, but...I want things that I shouldn’t when it comes to you.”
“Like what?” I ask.
His finger trails up along the inside of my thigh. His dark gaze holds mine. “Like this,” he says, cupping me between the legs. His thumb presses gently down onto my clit before his hand travels higher, settling over my heart. “And this.”
I wrap my hand around his. “You’ve always had this.”
He shakes his head. His hair falls into his glassy eyes. “I don’t mean in a friendly way.”
My heart pounds under our palms. I know he’s wasted, and I know there’s a good chance he won’t remember this in the morning, but hot girl summer, right? If I don’t tell him how I feel, then what’s the point of this? “I know what you mean, and my answer hasn’t changed. You have always had my heart. Even when it was easier to pretend you didn’t.”
“You shouldn’t say shit like that to me.” He exhales, then collapses on top of me, wrapping his long arms around my waist, nuzzling his head between my legs.
I run my fingers through his hair, the strands silkier than I’d been expecting, and I can’t help but repeat the motion. “It’s the truth, why shouldn’t I be honest?”
“Because you’re moving to Chicago,” he mutters. His head turns slightly, his hands push my sleep shorts further up my leg, exposing my thigh, and I can feel the warmth of his breath brush against my sensitive skin. “And because Reese still thinks he has a chance with you, and because—” his voice trails off as his mouth finds my flesh and he presses a small kiss there.
“Because of her?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I lost her because I was so desperate for money that I threw her to wolves for five fucking grand.”
“What?” I ask, stroking his hair. I can barely concentrate with his mouth on me, but I have to. He’s opening up, and I’m always starved for information where he’s concerned. I want to know everything about him that I missed out on these last eight years. I crave to know him as much as I crave art.
“Noah paid me to break up with her.” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. Just darkness. “And because I’m tired of fighting for every little thing, and because rehab isn’t cheap, even though I’ll never be able to convince my mother that she needs help anyway. So the money is just sitting in my account, while they’re traipsing all over the country on a trip that I wasn’t allowed to go on.”
I exhale. Not sure where to begin. “It’s like you just vomited all over me.”
He laughs, squeezing me tighter. “I kinda did, didn’t I?”
“You wanna talk about it?”
“Umm, I’d rather you forget everything I just said.” He kisses me again, this time in the little crevice where my thigh connects to my hip.
A tremble runs down my spine, and I moan, despite myself. “I’m here if you need me.”
“I know.” He looks up at me with his glassy eyed stare.
I brush my thumb across his plush pink lips and before I can stop myself, I blurt out a question that I’ve been curious about for some time now. “When did you lose your virginity?”
“In tenth,” he says. “Me, Aaron, and Reese snuck to a college party. There was a girl there, we hooked up, stayed in touch for a bit until she found out I was in high school. Then a few months later, I met Tru.”
“Did you guys…”
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “She wasn’t ready and I didn’t push.”
My shoulders fall in relief. He loved her—he still loves her. I’m not sure if I could compete with her being his first everything. Even though rationally I know it isn’t a competition between us, but I want him. I want his heart, and she still has it. “So, you’re practically a virgin too?”
He chuckles. “I don’t think that’s how virginity works.”
“What about the girl from the park?”
“Brooke?”
I nod.
He sighs. “Twice, just after the breakup.”
“Devin Tedesco, you are a ho.” I take a page out of his book and bop him on the nose.
He chuckles a throaty laugh, and pulls me down, wrapping his body around mine. “My little spoon,” he whispers in my ear. His scent, smoke and spice, and soap threaten my critical thinking skills; it’s the only explanation for the words that follow.
“Maybe it should be you?” I whisper so low that I’m not even sure if he heard me. My heart thuds in my chest. My brain goes haywire. I imagine it’s like in that cartoon movie where all the emotions run around as if the building is on fire. I can’t believe I said it out loud. I can’t believe I’m thinking about saying it again. I guess I have a complex, an itch for rejection that my mother implanted in me at a young age. He’s in love with someone else. I wouldn’t know what love meant if it slapped me in the face, and yet here I am, with the only boy I’ve ever felt anything for, asking him to make love to me.
“Roni,” he groans and I can feel his dick twitching between us.
“It’s him or you,” I say with more bravery than I feel. “I mean, I guess I could find a random stranger, but—”
His grip tightens on my hip and I snap my mouth shut. “Do you understand what you’re asking me to do?”
“I’m doing this, Dev. Not just for my muse, but because I want to know what sex is like. I’d prefer it be with you, but…” I let the rest of that sentence die in my throat. I like Reese, I do, but it’s Devin for me. Always has been.