Page 16 of A Slice of Love

Tired Jonas who stayed up too late partying the night before.

Exhausted Jonas who spent a crazy number of hours on the football field.

Sad Jonas when his grandma passed two Novembers ago.

Happy Jonas who just won yet another championship.

I’ve even encountered Flirty Jonas a time or two.

But never have I ever seen Jonas like he is now.

Nervous.

I like that he’s nervous. It means he’s serious about what he just said, what he’s asking.

Jonas wants more than this too.

“Yes.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, rolling to his back, clutching his chest. “Fuck, Frank. Don’t tease me like that.”

I swat at him. “Shush.”

He rolls back my way with a grin. “I’m kidding. I knew you’d say yes.”

“Oh, you did?”

“Definitely.”

“And how’d you know that?”

“Because I can feel it in your kisses.”

“Can you?”

He nods. “Yep. You want me.”

I do. “You’re dreaming.”

“Only of you, baby.”

I laugh. “How cliché.”

He moves quickly and before I know it, I’m trapped under him. This position of ours has become familiar over the last twenty-something hours, and every time I find myself under his weight, those same butterflies start up in my stomach again.

“Cliché, but true.”

“I can’t believe I let you kiss me,” I tease.

He stares at me for just a moment, and something in his eyes makes my breath catch. He looks like he wants to say something but thinks better of it.

Instead, he lowers his lips to mine and says, “Yes you can.”

Then he’s kissing me like he’s trying to prove his point.

It’s made when I slide my hands into his hair, holding him to me.

It’s proven yet again when a soft moan escapes me the second his fingertips crawl across my skin.

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