“What are you talking about?” He balks, clearly offended. “I always listen to what you have to say.”
I relent. “Sure, you listen, but you don’t hear me.” I cup a hand around my ear.
“You’re back to talking in circles, Red.”
That does it.
I stomp the two steps it takes to close the distance between us, this time not stopping until we’re pressed thigh to thigh, chest to heaving chest.
“Okay. Fine.” Pushing up on my toes, I do my best to really get all up in his face until we’re almost nose to nose. “You want straightforward?”
His nod is hesitant, his self-preservation probably telling him not to make any sudden movements.
“I like you.”
He blinks, the slow rise and fall of his lashes infuriating. “I know. People typically aren’t friends with people they don’t like.”
“UGH!” I hope Kay and Emma have bail money because this man is going to drive me to homicide. “No. I mean I. Like. You.” I fall back on my heels, a sudden wave of sadness that he’ll never reciprocate crashing over me.
“You like me?” He says the question like it’s the first time he’s ever strung those three words together.
“I know you don’t feel the same way about me.” I hold my arms out to the side. “I get it. But there it is.”
He doesn’t move or even breathe.
It’s time to retreat and lick my wounds in private.
Turning, I take one step before a hand grips the back of my nape and yanks me back.
I don’t even get the chance to reach out to steady myself before my shocked “What” is swallowed by CK’s lips slamming into mine.
Holy guacamole.
I’ve kissed a lot in my short lifetime, but never, not once, have I been kissed like this.
CK and I release mutual groans, his mouth moving over mine. His fingers flex around my neck, the tips pressing along the pulse point now fluttering wildly along the side of my throat. He moves, shifting closer, the clean scent I’ve come to associate with him wrapping around us.
I’m almost afraid to move, like if I do, it’ll spook him.
He licks at the seam of my lips, and I instantly open for him, the move finally enough to break me from my stunned daze. He kisses me as if he was the one pining for me for close to a year. It’s heady and makes me dizzier than our fight that preceded it.
My tongue strokes along his, and the noise he makes in the back of his throat has my panties ruined in an instant before he delves deeper, using his hold on me to adjust our angle.
He nips at my lips, sucking my lower one into his mouth as his free hand skirts along the side of my hip. His arm coils around my back, tugging me in until the last hairbreadth of space between us is eliminated completely.
My hands are trapped between our bodies, but I’m able to rotate my wrists enough to clutch the front of his button-down, holding on while he takes me on the ride of my life.
Never would I have thought such an ardent kiss would come from shy CK.
We shouldn’t be doing this. Not here. Not now. We both came here with other people, yet we’re kissing each other. By the flipping bathrooms, no less.
I don’t care. Nothing has ever felt this right, despite the situation being oh so wrong.
My body throbs, sensations bombarding me from every angle. I’m lost to the chaotic pounding beat of his heart against my palm, the feel of his hard body pressing into mine, and the sheer possession in his touch.
I’m one more stroke of his tongue, one more nip of his teeth, one more guttural groan rolling around in the back of his throat from dragging him into the bathroom behind me and locking us in a stall when a singsonged “And that’s how people end up pregnant” has CK ripping his mouth from mine.
His lips are swollen and shiny from our kisses and so damn tempting I don’t give a damn about our new audience.
I rise onto my toes to kiss him again, but the shift has his gaze tracking over my shoulder at the pair of gawking college-aged ladies still standing there.
Annoyed that they interrupted the best kiss in the history of kisses—sorry, not sorry, all you trending #Kaysonova ones—I flick my hair over my shoulder and stare the two of them down until they hustle into the restroom.
I spin back around, more than ready to get back to sucking face with the man I’ve had a crush on for far too long, when, with four words, he sends me crashing harder than a botched pyramid transition.
“That shouldn’t have happened.”
#CHAPTER24
* * *
UofJ411: *picture of CK and Quinn standing close together in the bathroom hall at Jonah’s*
Look what leftovers are out for a night at Jonah’s #LeftBehind #DontYouTwoLookCozy
@strawbshortab: Wait? Is there another couple in the #Kaysonova circle? #IsThisTrue
@hbietsch: No way. Just look at her compared to him #OutOfYourLeague
@amberebooksandmore: Yeah, I don’t buy it. #ShesHotYoureNot
@JenniferMarie119: That’s not true. He’s cute #Adorkable
@mrshanlon0128: Yeah, but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s a 10 and he’s not. #DoTheMath
* * *
UofJ411: *picture of Quinn and Grady leaving Jonah’s together*
Oh, no. THIS was her date for the night #HeyThereHottie
@TheQueenB: Isn’t this the guy that just got drafted from BTU? #HockeyHunks
@briannas_bookshelf: Now THIS I believe #HotJock
@hmkerby: Oh 100% #TheCheerleaderAndTheJock
* * *
UofJ411: *REPOSTED—BTU_TitansHockey: So proud of our very own @GradySlapShot45 being drafted—picture of Grady in his BTU hockey gear*
We gotta thank @TheQueenB always coming in clutch with the deets #WeSeeYouBoo
@bsdmhutch: Why don’t we have hockey at the U of J? #ICouldBeAPuckBunny
#CHAPTER25
* * *
It’s been roughly thirty hours or so since I slept, but despite every minute that ticks by on the clock, I don’t get any closer to sleep.
Last night has played on a constant loop in my mind. I can’t seem to shut it off, no matter how hard I’ve tried. Kind of ironic, seeing as I’m pretty sure the catalyst behind blowing up life as I’ve known it, happened because I blacked out for a moment.
One minute I was arguing with Quinn—about what I’m still not entirely sure—and the next we were kissing.
No.
Wait.
Scratch that.
Then I was kissing Quinn.
I had dreamed of doing that for so long I’m still having a hard time comprehending that I actually made it a reality.
I let my emotions and the frustration of not understanding what I was feeling or how to correctly interpret…any of it push me into putting my lips on someone I had no right to put my lips on.
No matter how many times I recall Quinn kissing me back, it doesn’t change the fact that it should have never happened. Or that she went home with another man after.
I could pretend all I want, but the proof is out there in poorly captured photographs and hundreds of comments.
My phone vibrates for what feels like the millionth time, but again, I let the call from Grant roll over to voice mail. Unlike the others before it, he follows this one up with a text.