His large structure barricaded the door–because of course it did. He wanted me stuck in here, begging him to let me out. “Can I kiss you finally?”

My hands swiped up and down, showing him my ugly attire. “Does all this really do it for you?”

A fingertip traced beneath my chin, drawing my gaze to meet his eyes. I watched his pupils dilate, dark pools expanding as the air between us filling with tension. “I want to finally feel those fucking lips on mine.”

Looking anywhere but his eyes is all I could do. “Why,” I stuttered. “I’m clearly not your type. I’m just a challenge you can’t help but persist at. You can’t tell me I’m wrong.”

His head found where my gaze went, eyes blazing with intensity, staring into my soul. The distance between us disappeared and I heard his breathing become shallow. My nerves fried on the spot and my heartbeat was out of control. It had to be an adrenaline rush I felt–the nervousness that everyone got in unfamiliar situations or whatever.

Whatever it was, I was sure he could hear my heartbeat.

“Just let me kiss you, damn it.” He grasped the back of my neck to pull me into him. The low, breathy voice sent tingles down my spine and other regions.

So, I obliged and shoved my mouth into his. If it was happening, it would be my move.

And it was nothing like kissing Garrett. His lips felt like a lightning strike–exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Unless I was a dumb virgin–which I was–I would say that it felt urgent and needy. It set my body on fire.

He was a lightning strike.

Like that first night when we stood at the edge of the cliff overlooking the city and gazing at the stars.

Like when he pulled me onto his bike out of nowhere.

Like when he threw me over his shoulder to take me somewhere he somehow knew I’d want to go.

I felt like I was waking up.

Shoving my hand to his chest, I separated us. We were out of breath from the urgency of the kiss and hands roaming everywhere. Jesus Christ in Heaven, what the hell was I thinking?

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and pushed my way out of the closet. “Happy?”

A hand clasped over my wrist. “Wait.”

“What?”

His phone pinged and we both looked down.

“Looks like food is here.”

​Chapter 18

Fallon

Two whole pizzas were gone almost instantly between an athletic baseball player and a stoned skater chick. How those two ate almost an entire pizza each was a mystery to me–they even ate breadsticks and garlic knots. My meager three pieces couldn’t compare.

Brent broke the silence first. “Where’s my bed?”