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I nodded.
“Do you want to stop now?”
My head moved back and forth to the pillow.
“Thank God.”
“Then why are you assuming that role? It’s not what I want, either.”
“What am I gonna do with you?”
“I can think of a couple things.”
“I noticed you the first week. Not just because of how pretty you are, though of course, that played into it. It was the way you lean onto your elbows when you’re listening in class, when something catches your interest. And when you laugh, it’s never to get attention, it’s just-laughter. The way you obsessively tuck your hair behind your ear on the left side, but let the right side fall down like a screen. And when you’re bored, you tap your foot soundlessly and move your fingers on the desktop like you’re playing an instrument. I wanted to sketch you.”I blinked. “Yes?”
“The night we met—I’m not like that guy.” His jaw was rigid.
“I know tha—” He placed a finger over my lips, his expression softening.
“So I don’t want you to feel pressured. Or overpowered. But I do, absolutely, want to kiss you right now. Badly.” He trailed his finger over my jaw and down my throat, and then into his lap.
I stared at him. Finally comprehending that he was waiting for a response, I said, “Okay.”
He dropped the pad onto the floor and the pencil followed, his stare never unlocking from mine. As he leaned over me, I felt a heightened awareness of every part of my body that touched a part of his—the edge of his hip pressed to mine, his chest sliding against mine, his fingers tracing from wrists to forearms and then framing my face. He held me in place, lips near my ear. When he kissed the sensitive spot, my breath shuddered. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, moving his mouth to mine.
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