Page 19 of Sweet Oblivion

I turned my head and caught her looking at me, a small smile on her face. She mouthed, “Surprise!” and then turned back to face the front.

I continued to stare, unable to tear my gaze away from the girl sitting the next row over and two seats up.

Aya was even prettier than I’d expected her to be. Her long, long hair was streaked with reddish highlights that added an interesting depth to the dark strands. Her nose was littered with freckles and the faint peeling of an old sunburn. Her chin was as stubborn and delicate as I’d remembered from our brief encounter all those years ago. Her eyes were even brighter, even more amazing up close than any gem my mom or grandmother had ever worn. Aya’s cheekbones sat high in her thin face, her neck slender and elegant, and her body that slim, lithe shape most of the Hollywood elite spent thousands to try to create.

I sucked in a breath as I took her in. She shifted in her seat, giving me a partial view of her chest. She had fabulous tits: high and perky and definitely enough to fill my hand. I might have emitted a strangled breath as I stared at them. She glanced back, caught my gaze, and frowned.

My face burned, and I looked away. When I turned back, I caught her looking at me from under her lashes. That time, our gaze held until the bell rang. I couldn’t remember what the teacher said, nor did I care.

My embarrassment dissipated as my excitement to actually speak to Aya grew. I leaped from my chair and wrapped her in a hug, letting my nose fall against the side of her neck. Aya felt so right, so perfect in my arms. Her hair smelled like fresh air and sunshine, the first of which was in short supply even in outdoorsy Austin. Too many cars had led to a layer of smog that I doubted Aya had seen in Nepal.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” I said, not caring that the voices around me rose in excited chatter. Nash Porter wasn’t affectionate. Nash Porter didn’t have girlfriends.

Aya hesitated. She sucked her plump, pink lower lip deep into her mouth.

Now, seeing it in person, I really wanted that lip in my mouth. I wanted that mouth on mine. And…shit. I breathed through the excitement and need even as I moved back enough that she wouldn’t realize my body was jumping at her nearness.

“My grandfather’s sick,” she murmured.

Instant boner killer, and not at all the way I wanted to get there. I grabbed Aya’s backpack and then my own. “Oh. Like sick or…sick?”

She hesitated, a frown tugging at her brows. “He’s going to die soon. We’re staying with him.”

I winced even as I took her hand and led her out into the hall. “That totally sucks.”

She nodded as her lashes dropped to her cheeks. Even sad, she was gorgeous.

I cleared my throat, hoping my body wouldn’t betray me yet again. “That’s a bad thing? Staying with your grandpa?”

“It’s…unexpected.”

That I could understand.

“I’d not met him until a few years ago when my parents divorced. I guess Mum’s marriage caused a bitter rift between them. He told me last night he’d disinherited her until she came to her senses and kicked the rounder to the curb.”

I smirked. “Rounder,” I muttered. “Good British insult.”

Every set of teenaged eyes in the hallway stared as we walked together, their gazes landing on our joined hands.

“Um…why are people staring at me?” Aya whispered, inching closer.

Nice. I liked her there, pressed into my side. I could feel the warmth of her skin against mine. I thought back to the day we’d met, how her hand had felt in mine as I pulled her out of the water.

Something had clicked then, and I felt a similar happiness now.

“They’re not. They’re staring at me. I don’t hold hands. I don’t really like the girls around here all that much.”

“Nash!” She tried to extricate her fingers, but I gripped her hand even tighter.

“You’re different, Ay. Always have been.”

“Because you know me so well from text messages,” she said, her tone on the snarky side. But she relaxed, no longer tugging her hand away. A shiver ran the length of my spine at her acquiescence. And when she met my gaze? Perfection.

“We’ve known each other for years. Most of our lives.”

She laughed. “You didn’t know my name.”

“Didn’t need to. You knew mine.” I winked.

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