Page 13 of Doughn't Let Me Go

It sets my body on high alert.

Not in a bad way, either.

In a suddenly-desperate-to-win kind of way, which is surprising to me.

I’m fine with sex. It’s just sex, something to take the edge off. You can do it with no feelings attached.

But kisses? They’re predicated on nothing but feelings.

Which sounds stupid to most people, I’m sure.

Sex is a means to an end, a race to the finish line.

Kissing is what happens before the race even begins. It’s intimate in ways sex isn’t.

I’ve only ever kissed people I have feelings about, and I plan to keep it that way.

Despite what he thinks, I’m not going to kiss Porter. I don’t even know him.

That said, I cantellhim I’m playing for kisses, because what he really wants is sex, and that I can do. It’s been alongtime, and I could use the distraction tonight.

Between school and busting my ass working to get in as many hours as I can so I can finally get out of the shitty apartment I live in and move somewhere that doesn’t require me to have four locks on my door, I’ve had no time for doing the naked tango.

Except for tonight.

A night off—the first one I’ve let myself have in a long time.

Tonight, I haveallthe time for sex.

And if that’s what Porter wants, I’m game for it too.

I could use an escape from my normal day-to-day, and he seems like just the right person for the job.

“You still in?” His lips curl up in a cool smirk. “We can make a pros and cons list if you’d like.”

I laugh. “No, no lists. Lists are the worst. I’m in.”

If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it.

Instead, he turns on his stool, facing me fully.

I do the same.

He lifts his hand, flagging another member of the staff.

“Can we get a pen and a couple extra napkins?” He doesn’t take his eyes off me as he makes the request, watching me, waiting to see if I’ll change my mind.

I won’t.

“Sure thing.” The waiter scurries off to the register at the other end of the bar, grabbing a pen and a stack of napkins. “Here you go.” He sets the materials in front of us and then saunters off.

Porter grabs the pen, scribbling our names at the top.

I peek over to see what he writes.

Porter. Ellen.

I snort out a laugh and sit back, watching his lips twitch at my reaction.

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