Page 22 of Beyond the Lines
“Yeah, well, blame my roommate,” she grumbles, but there’s affection in her voice. “Em didn’t mention the part about them being torture devices.”
“Smart girl, your roommate,” I say without thinking.
Lea stops walking and stares at me. “And why’s that?”
Because those shoes make your legs look incredible,I think, but manage not to say. Instead, I shrug, aiming for innocent. “She has good taste in friends. Like me.”
She exhales slowly through her nose, but I catch her smile and the way her cheeks flush pink, and God, it’s so fucking cute I can barely stand it. My own face feels hot, and I wonder if I’m blushing too. Which would be ridiculous, because I’mnot usually the blushing type. But there’s something about her that gets under my skin.
“Bold of you to assume we’re friends,” she says with mock severity, but her eyes are dancing. “Maybe I just used you for your French toast.”
“Betrayed!” I clutch my chest in feigned shock. “And here I thought we had something special.”
She exhales with dramatic effect. “Fine, we can be friends, butonlybecause you kept me safe from Brad and Sarah/Sienna…”
We’re approaching her dorm building now, and I find myself walking slower, trying to stretch out these last few moments. I don’t want this night to end, and I don’t want to say goodbye to this girl who makes me laugh, but we walk the rest of the way in comfortable silence.
When we reach her dorm, she slips off my jacket and hands it back. Our fingers brush, and that electric current runs between us again. She shivers slightly, but I don’t think it’s from the cold.
“Thanks for tonight,” she says softly. “It was… unexpected. In a good way.”
“Yeah,” I agree, unable to stop smiling. “It really was.”
She hesitates, as if weighing up a choice, then nods. “Give me your phone…”
My heart does a victory dance in my chest as I comply, unlocking my phone and handing it over to her in a repeat of my earlier move. Ihopeshe’s going to put her number in. Because I want to keep making her laugh and learning what makes her tick andsomuch more.
She quickly inputs her number and hands it back. “Text me sometime… if you want…”
I smile and nod, tucking my phone away in my pocket,and for a moment we just stand there, neither wanting to be the first to say goodnight. The tension between us crackles like static electricity, and I find myself swaying slightly closer to her, drawn by some invisible force.
But I don’t kiss her.
Not yet.
Because something tells me that kissing Lea isn’t something to be rushed. That when it happens—and God, I hope it happens—it should be perfect. Something special and worth waiting for.
So I take a step back, preparing to say goodnight, when suddenly her hand catches mine. Before I can process what’s happening, she pulls me closer, rises on her tiptoes, and presses her lips to mine.
The world stops.
Her lips are soft, and when I slide my hand into her hair to cup the back of her head, she makes this tiny sound that nearly undoes me completely. My other hand finds her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepens.
She kisses like she talks—thoughtfully at first, then with growing confidence and humor. When she nips at my bottom lip, I can’t help but smile against her mouth, because this is so much better than I could have imagined.
“Trouble,” I murmur again, and feel her answering laugh.
Finally, reluctantly, we break apart. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips slightly swollen, and her eyes are bright with something that looks a lot like happiness. I want to draw her like this—wild-haired and beautiful in the moonlight.
“What?” she asks, her voice slightly breathless.
I grin. “Just getting one last look so I can draw you tonight…”
“That’s… unique…” she laughs. “But I better have clothes on…”
“Can’t promise it.” I shrug. “Coffee tomorrow?”
“I’d like that.” She smiles, then adds, “Goodnight, Dec.”
