“Don’t give up on me,” he whispers, rain cascading down his face. “Please.”
One.
Two.
Three seconds. I’m not sure what happens. Not sure who makes the first move. All I know is that our faces are an inch apart, and I can feel his breath against my lips. He blinks, swallows hard, and looks away.
I press my mouth to the corner of his mouth and mutter, “A girl can only hold onto hope for so long.”
This time, he doesn’t move. His eyes are closed as if he’s memorizing this moment. I know I am.
“Open your eyes and look at me,” I command softly.
He does, his gaze locking with mine.
I lift my hand and press the palm against his cheek. He sighs, leaning into the touch, and gives me that beautiful half-smile of his. Without thinking, I lift myself on my toes and press my mouth to his, imprinting the shape of that smile onto my lips. The kiss tastes like him; sweet, forbidden memories, and coffee.
His body stills as he curls his hands into fists. I can feel him holding back. Then he groans, giving in. His mouth moves against mine, stealing my air, giving me life, and for just a second, I’m swept away by the moment. I’m vaguely aware of people walking past us, but I don’t care. Let them stare.
His lips move to trail my jaw before he pulls back slightly, expelling air through his mouth. “Grace, my first and last.” He recites the quote I remember too well; the quote tattooed on his skin.
Then, the reality of what just happened sinks in.
Crap.
I close my eyes, and all I can see is Levi kissing me, then Sol kissing me. What the fuck is wrong with me? Neither of the two is my boyfriend, but guilt cuts through me anyway. And the thing is, both boys provoke something inside me.
He tucks locks of hair behind my ear and sighs. “I have to go.” Dropping his hands from my shoulders, he twists around and opens the door for me. He shrugs off his drenched coat and tosses it on the back seat. I do the same because it’s freaking wet and heavy, then climb inside the truck and snap the belt on.
Once he’s seated, he stares at me for a few heartbeats. I cross my arms on my chest to stop myself from reaching over and running my fingers along that sculpted jaw.
His face sobers as he asks, “Did you drive your car to Ivan’s place? I could drop you there on my way back to Portland.”
I shake my head. “MJ gave me a lift. The dorm would be great if it’s okay with you.”
He nods, the corner of his mouth curling faintly with a smile, and starts the truck. I give him directions to Beckett Hall.
When we arrive at the dorms, Sol parks the truck outside the building, then takes my hand in his, lacing our fingers together. He stares at them thoughtfully and I stare at him wondering how to say good bye, wondering if I should kiss him or hug him or hop out of the truck and walk away without a word.
His gaze darts between my eyes and mouth. His breathing speeds up, chest moving up and down, his eyes darkening.
I want to kiss him so badly. But more than that, I want to know—
“We’re going to be okay, right?”
“Do you want us to be okay?” he asks, hopefully.
More than anything in the world. “Yes.”
He smiles wide. The way he’s looking at me makes me feel like I’m soaring. Pulling my hand from his, I crawl over the console, my wet jeans squeaking on the leather seat as I move and straddle him. His eyes widen with a surprise. His hands move to my hips and grip tight, pulling me into the growing bulge in his pants. My thighs shake with need. I want him. Want to feel him so badly.
Leaning forward, I take his face into my hands, careful not to touch his bruised jaw, and then press my lips to his. He groans, before moving one hand from my hip to the back of my head. He holds me in place and his mouth claims mine hungrily. Kissing me with reckless abandon. I meet him kiss for kiss. Hips gyrating, our movements are jerky and uncoordinated; hunger, lust, and eight months of being apart fuel our actions. Then my hands are leaving his face and scrambling down his semi-dry shirt, desperate to touch him. The second my fingers make contact with his hard stomach, he gasps and the muscles clench.
“This feels so good,” he murmurs. “I missed you so much, Gracie.” Both his hands leave their respective places and slide to cup my breasts, squeezing them before burying his face in my chest. “I want to be the kind of man you deserve.”
Kissing Sol is dangerous. I’m already unraveling and I know if I don’t stop now, the next thing will be us ripping each other’s clothes off and probably having sex in his truck.
I can’t do that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m dying to do more than kissing him. But I know myself too well. If I let him inside my body, I’ll want more. He has promises to keep. And I’m not going to stand in his way.
Placing my hands on either side of his head, I urge him to look up at me. “You underestimate yourself, Sol.” I bite my lip to stop it from trembling. What I have to say needs to be said. There’s no way around it. “You and I. . . we have a thing for falling back into bad habits. Go do whatever you have to do. We both need to move on. We need to figure out what we want because this back and forth is destroying us.”
“I know what I want,” he insists.
I don’t say anything because, like I said, hope is a mean bitch. “I have to go.” I press my hands on his skin memorizing the feel of it against mine before pulling them off. I reach for my coat on the floor, then open the driver’s door. Before I can hop down, Sol grabs the back of my neck and kisses me once more, then lets me go.
With a final wave, Sol reverses the truck before driving off. This time, I’m the one standing and watching him drive away. Sol is my first real love, and dammit, first love cuts the deepest. Why do I feel like this might be the last time I ever see him? Even after everything he said, I can’t afford to hold on to hope. Out of sight, out of mind. Anything can happen in those two months.
My heart splits in the middle as I watch the boy from my past leave, knowing the boy in my present is waiting. And I have no freaking clue what to do.
Inhaling slowly, I square my shoulders and head for the door. Once I’m inside, I pull out my phone and call Levi’s number. It goes straight to voicemail. I leave a message and ask him to call me back.
I feel like I just left my heart lying at Grace’s feet.
Now I know how she felt when she drove away from me while I watched the taillights disappear.
I grip the wheel tightly as the distance between us grows with each passing second. When she completely disappears from my view, I pull alongside the curb and park my truck.
I want to turn around and drive back, but what would be the point, other than to prove to Levi that I’m the asshole he accused me of being? Besides, this yo-yo behavior is getting old. Who knew love could be such a pain in the ass?
My head snaps up from the wheel at the sound of my phone ringing from the cup holder on the console, and my heart beats faster, infused with hope. I snatch it up and answer the call without checking to see who it is.
“What the hell, man? You just left without saying goodbye?” Ivan asks.
Disappointment punches me in my gut, and I breathe in deeply to ease the pain.
It’s not her.
“Sorry,” I mutter into the phone. “Thought you’d left for practice.”