Page 84 of The Love Interest
“I told you, I wanted to see you.”
The crease between his eyebrows gets deeper. Wait, his expression isn’t anger; his eyes are too soft for that. What he’s feeling is concern. For some reason, he’s worried about me.
“Dyl, I know what I’m doing. She’s in the bathroom, so we’ve got a bit of time. We don’t have much, but it’s better than nothing. Do you want me to go?”
He looks past me, checking the foyer.
“No, I don’t want you to go. Come in.”
He moves aside and I enter his bedroom. He closes the door behind him and locks it. As the lock clicks into place, I wonder why he did it: is it because we’re Love Interests and we can’t be seen together, or is it because he knows what I’m about to do and wants privacy? I really hope it’s option two.
“Sorry if I seemed weird before,” he says. “I’m just confused. This is so unlike you.”
I pause. “What do you mean?”
He runs his hand through his hair. His shirt is now fully buttoned up, but it still pulls up a bit, giving me a glimpse of his stomach. Now I get why Love Interests are taught to do it; it’s a pretty big turn-on. “It’s just, well, you normally do everything by the book. Whenever Juliet is around, you’re always the perfect Nice. But the perfect Nice wouldn’t be here. He’d be downstairs, with Juliet. And yet… you’re here.”
I nod. “That I am. Again, if you’d like me to leave, I’ll go.”
He smiles. “I’m not complaining, not at all. It’s just worth noting, I think. So, what do you think of my room? Do you now know why the LIC spent so much time designing it? Is it, I don’t know, making you fall in love with me?”
I glance around his room. It’s a lot bigger than mine, and it’s really freaking adult. That’s my first thought:this is a man’s bedroom, not a boy’s. I mean, there’s art on the wall! Not a movie poster or something, but actual art! His bed is a double, and the blanket is light gray, buried beneath dark-gray throw pillows. An e-reader sits on the wooden bedside table, beside a shiny chrome lamp.
The best part of the room, though, has to be the window. It takes up most of the far wall, and it’s framed by soft-looking navy curtains. Through the window I can see trees and the night sky.
“Actually, yeah, it does kind of work. I mean, it doesn’t make me fall in love with you, but I do know more about you now. For example, now I know that you prefer e-books to print books, you monster.”
He laughs. “That’s actually true. Print books are so heavy, and I always wreck them, which makes me feel bad. What else?”
I point to his record player. “You still listen to records, for some reason.”
“It’s all about the sound, man. There’s nothing like it. Anything else?”
I nod toward his bed. “Your bed is a double.”
“And what does that mean, exactly?”
“It means you want a partner. Or maybe I’m thinking about it too much. You could just like extra space. I don’t know.”
If I want to make a move, this is my one chance. How much time has passed since Kaylee left? Maybe five minutes. That leaves me with only five more minutes to spend with him. And chatting is nice, but we’re alone in his bedroom. I repeat:we’re alone in his bedroom, and he’s told me twice now that he doesn’t want me to go. This is the best chance I’m ever going to get.
“Hey, Dyl?”
He looks at me. “Yeah?”
“I’m going to do something, and if you want me to stop at any time, you can tell me, okay?”
All he does is nod, so I reach out and grab his wrist. I hang there for a second, my thumb drawing circles on his skin, waiting to see if my touch is acceptable. He doesn’t move away or say anything. Instead, a cute smile lights up his face. I pull him forward a step, so he’s directly in front of me, and then I grab his shoulders. He’s gone soft, pliable, and it’s so fucking hot. I squeeze him maybe a little bit harder than I have to, just to feel how firm he is, and he seems to like it, because he bucks slightly, his knees relaxing. I guide him back a few steps to the spot where I want him, with his back pressed firmly against the window.
“Is this good?” he asks.
“It’s perfect.”
I place one hand flat on the cold glass beside his head and then lean forward so that we’re almost touching. “Are you okay with this, Dyl?”
He nods. “I am.”
I lean forward and kiss him. He kisses me back, slower than he did at the shed. Unlike last time, I don’t feel like ripping his clothes off, but this… this is better. Softer. Kinder. More like I’ve finally found a way to express how frigging much I like him.
