Page 4 of The Boy

The side of his mouth lifts higher. “You touched me first.”

Despite myself, my gaze drops to his mouth. It’s not even a second, but he realizes it at once. His face darkens, the hint of amusement disappearing.

I have never been kissed before. I wonder what it would feel like. Jordan seems like an expert. He’d know. I bet he has kissed more than a dozen girls already. If only I could be one of the lucky ones.

His grip on my finger loosens, and he grazes his thumb along the back of my hand. It’s nothing more than that, but the way my body reacts, it’s as if we’re in foreplay and about to engage in wild, mind-blowing sex.

Oh, for Christ’s sake. I should not have thought that because now, warmth settles in my core, threading through my legs. My breath hitches, and when Jordan sees, his mouth parts.

Something crackles in the air between us. I feel it along my skin, my nerve endings, and the junction between my thighs. This thing builds and builds until…

Jordan is yanked from me, and the spell breaks.

“Yo! You didn’t answer my calls. Where were you, man?” It’s his friend from class. Tristan? Theo? Tom?

Jordan’s eyes don't leave me, neither does he answer Theo or Tristan or whoever he is. Disappointment crosses his features, and I’m pretty sure I mirror the emotion. I’m not used to seeing him without that goofy grin, and the effect is … devastating. To my lady parts, at least.

He opens his mouth to say something, but I can’t take the rioting emotions within me, threatening to wash over and overwhelm me. Without another word, I whirl and run like the devil himself is on my heels.

The door to the girls’ bathroom swings open, and I slip inside. My heart continues to pound faster than it has any right to, and I barely glance around before ducking into the nearest open stall, the lock clicking into place.

I take out the coffee from the paper bag, the smell grounding me even as my heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest.

I cradle the cup in both hands, pressing my thumbs against the warm cardboard. I let out a shaky breath, my lips curving into a smile, warmth blooming within me.

I don’t know what’s happening to me, and I have no idea if this is supposed to scare the hell out of me.

But…

This is the first time I’ve ever felt this light, and I want to hold on to the feeling as long as I can.

3

JORDAN

Jordyn’s been standing in front of the display window for a good fifteen minutes. She tilts her head slightly, staring at a short black dress on a mannequin. Even all the way from where I’m sitting—inside my car a few feet from her, watching her unnoticed—I can see her eyes lingering. It’s soft and thoughtful, as if she’s imagining herself wearing it.

Now I’m imagining her, too. My God. If she has that on, I won’t be able to look away. That dress will hug her curves perfectly.

Jordyn does this sometimes—gets so lost in her own world that she forgets everything else. I saw it happen at the cafeteria, her favorite coffee shop, and the library. Sometimes, I even noticed her mentally debating with herself. Cute.

Then, something else happens.

One guy in the most preppy boy outfit I’ve ever seen—white skinny jeans, light yellow polo, and dark brown loafers—barrels past her. His shoulder clips hers, just hard enough to make her stumble back, and her backpack slips.

It hits the concrete ground with a soft thud, spilling its contents. Jordyn crouches quickly, her cheeks pink, fumbling to gather her things.

The asshole doesn’t even apologize.

White-hot anger blazes through me. Without thinking, I step out of the car and shove the guy. His mouth falls open, but he catches himself. “What’s your problem, man?”

“You blind or something? You bumped into her. At least say sorry and help her.”

He casts a wary look over his shoulder and adjusts the sunglasses sliding down his nose. “I didn’t see her.”

“Blind it is.” I cross my arms and lift my chin. “Apologize.”

The asshole looks me up and down, decides I’m not worth his while, and slides his hands into his pockets. “No.”

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