Page 100 of A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime

Crew grabs the lollipop stick and pulls it out of my mouth. “Hey!” I protest.

“Say yes, and I’ll give it back.” He holds the candy just out of my reach.

“I don’t want to get in trouble,” I admit, turning serious.

His expression becomes serious too. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Birdy. We can start the movie early. You can get back to your room before curfew.”

“You promise?”

“Yes.” He shoves the Blow Pop into his mouth.

“Ew, we can’t share that,” I protest.

“Why not?” He pulls it out, handing it to me.

I shake my head. “You just had it in your mouth.”

“I had my mouth on yours yesterday,” he reminds me, his voice lowering, his gaze going hot. “Remember?”

How could I forget?

This movie watching idea is a bad one. I might end up doing something I’ll regret.

“Come over at seven,” he tells me as he draws the sucker out of his mouth and licks it with his tongue. My breathing starts to accelerate. “You can get back to your dorm by ten.”

“How long is the movie?”

“I don’t know. Couple of hours? I’ll have it set up and ready to stream by seven.” He hands the sucker to me. “Sure you don’t want it back?”

“Keep it,” I murmur. “I shouldn’t come over.”

“You probably shouldn’t,” he agrees. “But you will.”

* * *

I’m aboutto enter my dorm building when I spot Maggie walking toward me. I stop and wait for her, glad to see a smile on her face, which I haven’t seen in a while.

“How are you?” I ask as we both enter the building. It’s so warm inside, I’m immediately unwinding the scarf from around my neck, taking my hat off, and shoving it into my coat pocket.

“I’m good!” Her eyes are sparkling and she grabs my arm, squeezing tight. Her voice lowers. “I talked to Fig.”

“Oh yeah?”

She nods. “Want to come to my room so I can tell you about it?”

“Sure.”

We both live on the floor where the single suites are, meaning we don’t have to share with a roommate. My first three years at Lancaster, I had a roommate each time, and I remember thinking I couldn’t wait to get to this point, where I wouldn’t have to share.

Now I sort of miss it. A roommate is a built-in friend. Maggie was my roommate sophomore year, and we’ve been fairly close ever since.

We have our ups and downs, but I’m trying to do right by her and not judge. And I think she’s doing the same.

Once we’re safely tucked away in her room, without any prying eyes or listening ears, Maggie can speak freely.

“I finally got him alone in his classroom and basically forced him to talk to me,” she says as she moves about her room, seemingly restless.

I sit at her desk chair, watching her. “You had to force him to talk to you?”

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