Page 4 of A Slice of Love

“Sure. A snack would be nice.”

And I sound like a fucking moron.

I follow her into the kitchen, hot on her heels but not close enough to touch because I’m not a fucking masochist.

Or maybe I am.

I mean, Iamhere to spend an entire weekend with her, after all.

I could kiss my chemistry teacher right now for seating us beside each other on that first day of school. It got us here, gave me my in.

Now here we are.

Me and Frankie. A whole fucking weekend together.

No teachers. No parents. No prying eyes.

We can talk. We can laugh. We can doanythingwe want and nobody is going to be there to judge or report.

Just us.

It makes me nervous, yet so damn excited I can barely stand it.

I try to play it cool as we move through her oversized house. I know it’s just Frankie and her parents, but somehow their house is nearly three times as big as the one my family of four lives in.

She’s on the north side of the island with all the other well-off folks in this town.

Me? Well, my dad may run a successful business, but I definitelydo notlive on the north end.

We enter the sprawling kitchen, and the first thing I spy is a plethora of snacks lining the counter. There are at least six different bags of chips, a couple boxes of crackers, and a few two-liters of soda.

“You planning on having a party or something, Frank? That’s a whole lot of food for two.”

Her eyes dart toward the haul of goodies and then back to me. Her brown orbs track over my body, darkening in their perusal.

If I’m not mistaken, that’s lust in her gaze.

“You’re a growing boy.”

I quirk a brow at her. “Are you saying you’ve noticed my body?”

She drops her head, hiding behind that mess of frizz. “N-N-No.”

I love how easily embarrassed she is.

Chuckling, I cross the room until I’m standing just a foot away from her.

She doesn’t move. Doesn’t look up.

I let my eyes roam over her. She’s petite compared to my large frame. I bet we look ridiculous standing next to each other with how small she is compared to me.

Her red locks are wild as usual, and her oversized glasses are slowly sliding down her nose like they always do. With her cardigan covering her shoulders and her blue jeans hugging her curves, she looks just like she does at school. Well, minus being barefoot, and I won’t even get into how adorable I find her blue-painted toes.

Frankie’s cute as fuck, and she doesn’t even realize it.

I slide my finger under her chin, tilting her face up until she’s looking at me. Her lips part when her eyes meet mine, her chest now moving up and down as her breathing picks up in response to our proximity—or maybe it’s me touching her so freely that’s affecting her.

I don’t know why I have my hands on her. They don’t belong there.

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