Page 52 of See You Sometime
She offered him a nervous smile. “No, thank you.”
He stared at the back of the couch, running his left hand along it. With his right he reached up and scratched the back of his head, combing his fingers through his unruly short blond hair. A nervous habit she remembered from when they were young. He kept his hair shorter now than he had when he was a kid, and she got it. The slightest bit of length and it looked like a curly mop on him.
Back then, she’d thought it was adorable.
Thathewas adorable.
He still was.
“I’m nervous,” he quietly said.
“Why?”
He didn’t meet her gaze. “Seriously?”
She laid her hand over his left, stilling it on the back of the couch, and that drew his gaze.
“Seriously,” she whispered.
“Because…” He sighed. “I told you, been a long time for me. And I’m sure I’m not going to be able to live up to what you are used—”
Her other hand shot out, cupped the back of his neck, and pulled him down to her for a kiss.
Time for us both to stop talking before we talk ourselves out of this idea.
At first, he pulled away just a little, for a second. Then he responded, kissing back. She curled her hand around his on the couch and drew his arm around her waist, pressing her body against his and closing her eyes to await him taking over.
Shehopedhe’d take over.
If not, maybe theywouldneed additional talking.
He turned, leaning against the back of the couch. As he did, that pulled her against his body and she ground herself against him.
Finally, she felt signs of life responding to her, a slowly expanding bulge in the front of his jeans that gave her hope all was not lost and maybe, justmaybeshe wasn’t a damn troll.
Even if they stood there and did this for a while, she didn’t care. Human contact,realhuman contact, and she didn’t have to double-guess every damn thing he told her about where he’d be or who he was with.
No excuses to parse and investigate and drive herself crazy about.
No gas-lighting.
In other words, the exact opposite of what she was used to.
As nature took over, she realized something.
He’s a damn good kisser.
Honestly? She couldn’t remember what kissing him was like in high school, because they hadn’t even done a lot of that. Definitely hadn’t gotten to the heavy petting stage before she’d squirreled and broke up with him.
I’m.
A.
Fucking.
Idiot.
Then again, maybe he hadn’t been a good kisser back then. She hadn’t exactly been a sex kitten herself. She’d kept her virginity until her first semester of college.
