Page 12 of And Then There's You

Whatever it was, all I can think about is how I need it again.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Lyingdownonmysmall, two-seater blue couch, I swing my sock covered feet over the back. I’m not sure why it’s comfortable, but it’s my preferred reading position. I finally finished my homework, so I’m startingThe Silent Patient,a novel that's been sitting on my nightstand for a few weeks now. I open to the first page, but can’t seem to make it to the second because my thoughts keep drifting to Dean.

It’s been two nights since our date, and I haven't seen him since. I wonder what he’s doing tonight. Based on how often he said he works, I assume he’s there, but I’m trying not to come off needy by bugging him. Even though we did go on a date, and his date etiquette was perfect, a gut feeling tells me he’s not the boyfriend type. As much information as he was willing to give me, I also felt like there was a lot he was holding back. He appears a little mysterious, and I can’t figure out if it's in a secretive way, or if it's just how he is.

Since it’s only been two days without hearing from him, I’m trying not to be crazy, but all I’ve thought about since our date is wanting to see him again. That and replaying our kiss over and over. His sweatshirt immediately became my new loungewear. It smells like him, mostly woodsy with a little bit of bonfire, and I love it. I noticed when I took it off the other night it was from his high school. At least that’s my guess because his last name, which I’m now assuming is Porter, is printed across the back. It might be weird that I’m wearing it, but no one is here to see me cuddled in the oversized sleeves, so it doesn’t matter.

I start over at the top of the page for the fifth time. One line in, my phone vibrates against my side where it rests on the couch.

Dean:What are you up to?

My heart leaps, and I answer.Reading, you?

Dean:I'm coming over for a sleepover.

Well, that's presumptuous on so many levels. Thank goodness Avery is at Miller’s tonight.

My fingers feel paralyzed, hovering over the keyboard of my phone trying to figure out what to say. Play it cool, Maci, get it together. I delete the emoji I have after theokbefore pressing send and getting up to brush my teeth.

I unlock the front door, take off his hoodie and hang it over the edge of the couch so he doesn’t know it’s my new favorite. I find my place back on the couch, which is directly to the left of the entryway. Picking my book back up, I face away from the entrance to my apartment so I don’t stare at the door. Fifteen minutes later a knock startles me. “Come in,” I call.

I wasn’t sure my voice was loud enough until my door slowly opens. I attempt to stay focused on my page because I know if I let myself be excited that he’s here, I might freak out. I don’t know what it is about this guy, but this strong pull I feel toward him is so hard to deny. It’s not only when he's near me, but even through the phone. I have this urge to kiss him, to leap at him and to run my fingers all over his body, to want to know everything about him. Stay cool, Maci. I can feel him coming toward me, but I keep my eyes on the page of my book.

He kneels on the floor next to me as he pulls the book from my hands and places it on the table behind us. Then he presses his lips softly against mine, like he comes home to me every day and does this. It’s weird and wonderful. As soon as he leans back, I bite my lip, trying to calm the surge of energy that seemed to transfer from him to me as we kissed.

“You made me lose my place in my book,” I tease.

“It's okay, I’ve already read it. I’ll tell you what happens.” He says it matter of factly.

Wait, he’s read this book? I noticed him reading the day we met, but not the book he had. It would be cool if we are both into psychological thrillers.

Sitting and turning to fully look at him, I can tell he just got off work. He’s wearing those stupid pants I recall from the night we met. They are, in fact, swishy material, and you can tell they zip off at the knees in case you want to make them shorts. Somehow though, he looks attractive in them, and I have the urge to rip them off.

Clearly I’ve zoned out because I catch his hand waving in front of me. “Maci! I guess I’ll give myself the grand tour then!” He laughs and stands to look around. His laugh is so quiet as if he’s only laughing to himself, and it makes my stomach flutter.

All of a sudden I snap out of it when I realize he’s about to see my room. He peeks his head into the kitchen, off to the right when you first walk in, directly opposite where I am in the living room. I open my book back up quickly to find where I was and slide in my bookmark. Leaping off the couch, I follow after him. He opened the door to the right of the bathroom before I could get to him, but he must have somehow known it was Avery’s room because he closed it right away. Now he’s standing in front of my doorway on the left, pausing to take a look around before walking to my bed, which is pushed against the back wall. I don’t have much else in here besides my dresser, a bookshelf and a ton of pictures, mostly of Avery and me. Dean picks up the frame I just got a few days ago that holds a picture of my friends and me on Halloween.

He sets it down and my heart starts racing, hoping I have a little more time to prepare for this “sleep”over because I’m not sure I’m quite ready. I'm torn from the freak out happening in my head when he starts piling the pillows in his arms and pulling my purple comforter off my bed. He flashes me a smile as he walks right past me back to the living room.

I consider asking what he’s doing, but I’m more curious to watch it play out. Reading my mind, he looks back over his shoulder and says, “I told you we were having a sleepover.” I watch as he releases everything in his arms and pushes the coffee table across the carpet until it’s out of the way. Then he lays the dark purple blanket that had been folded at the end of my bed on the floor. He tosses the rest of my bedding on top as if it were actually a bed and then pats it. Sensing my confusion as I stand there staring at him he adds, “What? Did I not mention it’s amiddle schoolsleepover? No funny business, just movies on the floor. Come on, what did you think I meant? Get your mind out of the gutter, Jackson.” He uses my last name through a dimpled grin then takes his shoes off and sits, rubbing the spot next to him for me to do the same. “What do you want to watch?” he asks me, as if this whole night is totally normal.

Relief washes over me, but then I question it, not sure if that’s how I feel. Either way, this is the most cheesy and adorable thing anyone has ever done with me, and my excitement starts to outweigh my nerves.

I grab the remote and join him on the floor, flipping through the “recently added” section of Netflix. I push play on the first option–Starsky and Hutch–because I’m far too curious what this mysterious guy has playing through his head to search for something. Plus, I like this movie. He scoots down, and crosses both hands, resting them on the pillow behind his head. I lie down, staying a few inches from him, ignoring my body begging me to move closer. Once the opening credits start playing, he turns on his side so he's looking straight at me. I hesitate before slowly twisting my body to meet his, moving an inch closer in the process. He reaches his hand out and runs his fingers through my hair, locking them behind my head and pulling me to his face. The instant our lips meet, a shiver runs through my body, covering every inch of me in goosebumps. His kiss is so soft and perfect, and yet all I want to do is crash into his mouth harder, as if it will bring me closer to him.

I lean up on my arm, and it forces him more on his back. My free hand slowly finds its way to his hip and grabs onto it forcefully as he presses his lips harder into me, his tongue dancing with mine. My assertiveness surprises me, as I run my fingers along the edge of his pants, and slightly under his shirt. I trail my fingers up his side, and then back down again, before pulling myself closer to him.

I sense his hesitation right before he pulls back, breaking our connection. “Maci! Let’s keep it PG. I told you, sleepover! Did you do this when you were in middle school?” he jokes.

“Probably for the best because I don’t have any condoms.” Why did I say that? I’m so awkward. He stares at me like he’s just as shocked the words came out of my mouth. “But I am on birth control. I don’t do this often anymore. Sex, I mean. Ugh, why am I telling you all this?” I bury my face into his chest, and his laugh vibrates through our bodies.

“Are you finished?”

“Yes,” I nod into his chest before he pushes on my shoulders lightly until I’m looking at him.

“Maci, relax. I’m here because I want to spend time with you.”

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