Page 63 of Campus Crush
As Peach.
His thumb brushed my cheek. “You’re the calm in my chaos, Abby.”
My heart raced at his words. It was these moments—these glimpses of sincerity beneath his confident exterior—that had gradually broken down my defenses over the past few weeks.
“That’s…actually really sweet,” I admitted.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said with a laugh. “I can be sweet.”
“I know.” And I did know. Despite my initial reservations, Foster had proven himself to be thoughtful, determined, and genuinely kind. “But we still need to study.”
He sighed dramatically. “Fine. But I’m going to need brain breaks. Regular ones—that include kissing.”
“Deal,” I said, trying to sound stern but failing miserably when he grinned at me.
Only half an hour later, he closed his textbook and stretched. “Brain break time?”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “You just want to make out again.”
“Can you blame me?” He leaned back against the couch cushions, his arm stretching along the back. “But actually, I was thinking we could talk about something.”
“Oh?” I set my notes aside, curious about his suddenly serious tone.
“Yeah. The hockey house always throws a big party early this time of year, and it’s happening next weekend. Will you come with me?”
I bit my lip. We’d only been dating for a couple ofweeks, but a party at the hockey house felt significant somehow—like a public declaration.
And I guess in college, showing up to one of the biggest parties of the year on the arm of the guy who hadn’t had an official girlfriend his entire college career was definitely a declaration.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” he added quickly, misinterpreting my hesitation. “I know parties aren’t really your thing.”
“I’d love to,” I told him sincerely. He was right that parties weren’t my thing usually, but I felt like this was the year I would finally break out of my comfort zone. And I wanted to be at Foster’s side.
This time when he kissed me, there was something different about it—a certainty, a promise. His hand cupped my face, his thumb tracing my cheekbone with such tenderness that my heart ached. I leaned into him and my hands rested on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath my palm.
The kiss deepened, and he gently guided me back until I was lying on the couch with his body hovering above me, his weight supported on his forearms. His body was warm against mine, and when he shifted, a rush of heat spread through me like a wildfire.
“Is this okay?” he whispered, his eyes searching mine.
I nodded, unable to find my voice for a moment. “Yeah,” I finally managed.
His lips returned to mine, more insistent now. One of his hands slid down my side to my hip, his touch leaving a trail of fire even through my clothes. I let my hands explore the broad expanse of his back, marveling at the firm muscles beneath his shirt.
When his mouth moved to my neck, I couldn’t holdback a soft moan. He groaned as his hips pressed against mine in a way that made my breath catch. The evidence of his desire was impossible to miss, and while it sent a thrill through me, it also triggered a flutter of nervousness, and I stiffened beneath him.
Foster must have felt it because he immediately pulled back. “Too much?” he asked, his voice husky.
“No, I…” I took a breath, trying to organize my thoughts through the haze of lust. “I just… I don’t have a lot of experience withthis.”
His expression softened. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for, Abby. I’m perfectly happy just kissing you.”
“I want to kiss you,” I assured him. “And…more. Just maybe not everything. Not yet.”
He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “We’ve got all the time in the world. No rush.”
The tenderness in his voice made my chest tighten. How had I ever convinced myself that this man was just a shallow jock? The Foster I’d come to know was patient, considerate, and surprisingly vulnerable at times.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
