Page 167 of Releasing 10
Even more confusing were the dreams that accompanied these newfound feelings. Dreams I wasnotsupposed to have about my best friend.
The most embarrassing part of the whole ordeal was my body’s sudden reaction to her, which made it even harder to spend time with my best friend.
Meanwhile, Liz had no such problems and continued to be as cuddly and affectionate with me as she always was, whichwouldn’t have been a problem if I’d had a single iota of a clue about how to make itstop.
I didn’t know how to act around her now, because every time she was near me, all I could think about was grabbing her and doing it all over again.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
How her lips felt on mine.
How her tongue tasted.
Howgoodit felt.
How she did crazy things to my body.
I wanted to kiss her so fucking bad again, but I didn’t have the balls. I wanted to ask her to be my girlfriend, but every time I tried to broach the subject, I panicked.
So I kept it to myself and waited, promising myself that I would do it the next time I saw her. Problem was, I’d been putting it off all summer and I felt beyond agitated.
I just wanted her to bemine. More than I ever wanted anything in my life. Including my PlayStation. Honestly, if I could put her on my Christmas list this year, I’d retire from asking for gifts for the rest of my life. If I could just haveLiz.
Just her.
Plenty of other lads liked her, too, and it made me feel fucking sick thinking about what would happen if one of them worked up the courage to ask her out before I did.
Would she say yes?
If she did, how would I handle it?
Would I die?
I thought I might die.
I truly felt like my heart would stop beating if that happened.
“Did you hear a word I said?” Feely’s voice infiltrated my thoughts, and I blinked in confusion. “Hugh,” he continued, smirking at me from the other side of the tent we wereattempting to erect in my back garden for our upcoming sleepover later tonight. “You completely dazed out there, lad.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, refocusing on the pole I was supposed to be threading through the tent loops. “Hey, Feely?”
“Yes, Hugh?”
“Can I ask ya something?”
“Fire away, lad.”
“I was just wondering,” I mumbled, feeling my face redden as I tried to broach the subject. “Are you still a frigit?”
“Unfortunately not,” Feely replied, attention trained on the peg he was hammering into the grass. “Maura McGuinness saw to that back during a game of spin the bottle while you were on holiday.”
“No shit.” I cocked a brow. “You never said.”
“Not exactly something I wanted to publicize, lad.”
“Fair enough,” I mused, giving him my full attention. “How was it?”
“It was like putting my tongue in a washing machine,” he replied, reaching up to adjust the collar of his T-shirt. “With teeth.”
