Page 55 of Texts From My Exes
His gaze lingered on my mouth before he tossed his hat onto the desk followed by his glasses, he was in front of me again, this time determination in his eyes as he jerked me against him, slamming his mouth against mine.
My best friend was kissing me. Ezra was kissing me.
Strong hands lifted me onto one of the small desks, mouth hot and urgent, he growled against my lower lip, bit down gently, pulled back only long enough to rasp, “I know what I’m doing. I’m kissing you.”
That cleared that up. Not.
“Are there cameras?” My voice cracked. Please say “no”. Please God say “no”.
He stilled, was it hesitation or catching his breath? “No cameras. Just us. Only us.”
I believed him. God help me, I believed him.
I kissed him back. Lied to myself that I wasn’t in love with him. Let myself fall apart in his hands because it was too good not to. His fingers slid under my shirt. I moaned.
“God, your boobs are perfect,” he whispered hoarsely.
I laughed, breathless, as he reached for my shirt fisting it in his hands like he was seconds away from ripping it off my body.
And then?—
The classroom door banged open.
“Ms. Hayes?” Mrs. Dayton poked her head in, clutching her planner to her chest. Behind her, the janitor hovered with his cart. “Sorry to interrupt, but I needed to check on the Inservice schedule. And Carl here says he’s supposed to replace some of your lights, if that’s okay?”
My cheeks burned. My shirt was at least on, thank God.
Mrs. Dayton’s eyes darted anywhere but at me. “We’ll just—uh—come back in a few minutes, give you time for…breathing.”
“No, it’s fine,” I croaked, pretending like my entire world hadn’t just tilted. “The lights…sure. Whatever works.”
“Great.” She gave a brisk nod, retreating. The janitor mumbled something about ballasts and beat a hasty retreat after her, cart squeaking down the hall.
The silence they left behind was deafening and then Ezra’s phone went off. With a curse he grabbed it. “Yeah, yeah, okay I’ll be right there. Yeah.” He grabbed his hat and glasses and stared me down, voice low. “Later.” It was a promise. “We should talk. I have something to tell you anyways.”
“Yes. Good. Later.” The word slipped out before I could stop it, shaky and desperate. “Later tonight?”
Someone started yelling on the other line again.
He bit out a curse. “It’s fine, stop panicking.” Ezra walked by me, his scent lingered and for one dizzy, insane moment, I let myself believe in happy endings. I let myself believe that was just a moment for us, that later everything would change, that what started off as fake—had turned into our reality.
I had no way of knowing how wrong I would be.
Or how right, depending on how you looked at it.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
HARPER
It’s not like I wanted to hide the fact that I live with my parents from you I just figured you were too self-absorbed to notice, plus grandma rarely sleepwalks—she’d clearly been hitting the whiskey again. Call me, or not. Whatever.
—Billy
I’d never been more nervous to talk to my best friend in my entire life. He’d had to run back to his office really quick while I went home and heated up some leftovers—which, honestly, was next-level adulting if you asked me. I almost ordered in, but we’d already decided on leftovers and I didn’t want tonight to look like anything other than what it was.
Two people talking.
