Page 82 of Searching for Nova

“Nothing.” I smile at him. “I just wanted to kiss you.”

He rises up to standing. His hand goes behind my head and he kisses me. I love how he kisses. I love everything he does to me. And I want him to do more.

Reaching down, I rub my hand over his cock. It’s hard and thick and pressing against his jeans.

He groans against my mouth, sounding like he’s trying to hold back, fighting with himself over whether or not to do this.

I undo his belt and drag down the zipper on his jeans. I slide my hand under his black boxer briefs.

“Nova,” he whispers, his breathing ragged as I touch him. It’s the first time he’s let me get this far. He always stops me at his belt. I drag his jeans down his legs, lowering to my knees. I start to take off his boxers when he stops me. “Come here,” he says, pulling me up.

“Why can’t I do it?” I smile at him. “I want to.”

“Not now.”

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer. I lead him to my bed and we lay down. I kiss him, pressing my bare chest against his. His hand goes to my ass and he groans again. I think he might be losing his fight to not do this. I’m naked, he’s almost naked, and we’re on a bed. I don’t think we can stop this now.

I wrap my leg around his and press my body against him, grinding my hips and rubbing against his cock. He still has his boxers on, but I doubt he will for much longer. His hips are moving, finding a rhythm with mine. He wants this, and so do I.

I yank at his boxers, urging him to take them off.

He breaks from my lips and backs away.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

He lays on his back, staring up at the ceiling, breathing hard. “I can’t do this.”

“What—why? What happened? We were almost—”

“I know. And I wanted to, but I can’t. I won’t let myself.”

“Why? I don’t understand.”

He turns on his side to face me. “I don’t want to be like those other guys.”

“What other guys?”

“The ones who only want to have sex with you and nothing else. I’m not like that, and I don’t want to be, especially with you.”

“It wasn’t like that with every guy. Mateo and I were friends. I hung out at his house, knew his family.”

“But he never called you his girlfriend.”

“No, but that didn’t matter to me.”

“It does to me.” Easton wraps his hand gently around my face. “I don’t want to be friends who have sex. I only want to have sex with my girlfriend.”

“So what are you saying? That you don’t want to have sex with me?”

He sighs, seeming frustrated. “I want to have sex with you. I’mdyingto have sex with you. But I’ll only do it if you’re my girlfriend.”

I lay on my back, taking a deep breath to calm the panic that came over me when he said he wanted me to be his girlfriend. I’ve never been a girlfriend, and I was okay with that. Being a girlfriend means trusting someone, giving them your heart, letting your guard down. Easton already has my heart. He’s had it since we were five. And the past week, he’s been breaking down the walls I built up since he left, making me want to open up to him and trust him. But I don’t trust him. I’ve learned not to trust anyone. Sometimes I don’t even trust myself.

“You can think about it,” Easton says. “But it’s what I want. I don’t want this to be casual. I don’t want us just being friends. I want a relationship with you.”

“Why would I agree to that?” I stare at the ceiling. “Knowing you’re going to leave again?”

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