Page 23 of Beyond the Lines
I watch her disappear inside, then turn and start walking toward my apartment, unable to wipe the stupid grin off my face. My lips still tingle from her kiss, and my mind is already racing ahead to tomorrow.
This year at Pine Barren just got a lot more interesting.
And for once, it has nothing to do with hockey.
five
LEA
Declan’s lipstaste like coffee.
The kiss is gentle at first, tentative, his mouth barely brushing mine. But when I press closer, sliding my hands up his chest, he groans softly and deepens the kiss. His fingers tangle in my hair as his tongue traces my bottom lip, and heat pools low in my belly.
Thisis what kissing should feel like.
Not the awkward fumbling of high school boys who treated my mouth like they were trying to win a tongue wrestling competition. Not even Chris’s technique, which always felt more performative than passionate, like he knew how to get from point A to point B with a map.
No,thisis real.
Raw.
Electric.
My back hits the brick wall of Hughes Hall, and I gasp. Declan takes advantage of my parted lips, his tongue sliding against mine. Soon, his hand goes lower, caressing my ass. Hepauses, as if asking for permission, and in response I arch into his touch, wanting more?—
“Lea! Wake up!”
Something hits my face—soft but insistent—and I jerk awake to find Em looming over me, wielding a pillow like a weapon. “Finally!”
“What…” I blink, trying to get my bearings. I’m not outside Hughes Hall, but in my bed, and I’mdefinitelynot with Dec…
She bounces on my bed, making me groan as reality crashes down. “I’ve been trying to wake you! You were making these little happy noises in your sleep.”
Heat floods my cheeks. I was definitely making happy noises, but they had nothing to do with being asleep and everything to do with dream-Declan’s very talented mouth. I’d had a sneak preview—andman, what a sneak preview—at about three this morning, and my mind had gone with it…
“I got you a coffee, and it’s getting cold…” Em waves a paper cup under my nose. The rich aroma of dark roast mingles with… cinnamon?
“Cinnamon latte,” Em explains, grinning. “Since you liked that cider so much last night. In fact, speaking of last night…”
“Ah, the real reason for your interrogation is revealed…” I croak, a gooey smile crossing my face.
She settles cross-legged at the foot of my bed, dark eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Spill. Everything. Now.”
I push myself up against my headboard, accepting the coffee gratefully. “There’s nothing to spill.”
“Nothing to spill?” Em’s perfectly shaped eyebrows rise toward her hairline. “Girl, you disappeared at that party—which, by the way, scared the shit out of us until Marnie said she saw you walking off with some hot guy. Then you comeback at stupid o’clock in the morning, looking all dreamy and floating on air.”
“I wasn’t floating.” I take a sip of coffee to hide my smile. “And I tried texting you guys after we got separated.”
“Yeah, about that.” Em narrows her eyes. “How exactly did your phone end up on Do Not Disturb mode?”
“Must have hit it by accident.” The lie slides out easily, when in truth I’d switched it on deliberately at the diner. “So, how was your night?”
“Nuh-uh! We’re not changing the topic!” Em glares at me. “And this mysterious hot guy who rescued you from party purgatory… does he have a name?”
“Declan.” The syllables feel warm on my tongue. “He’s an art major too. And that’s all you’re getting…”
“Asifthat’s all I’m getting.” Em laughs, then wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Did you… ummm… you know…”
