My lips find his, slowly locking in place as my eyelids flutter shut, and I feel his hand move to the small of my back. There’s a soft silence, with only Simba’s quiet voice as the sound track.
I’ve kissed guys before, but not in these circumstances. I kissed those guys while playing Spin the Bottle, while playing Truth or Dare, while being forced into a closet with them during Seven Minutes in Heaven. But this isn’t a game or a dare or a playful interaction. It’s real and it’s happening right now and I have no idea what I’m doing and why I’m kissing a guy from California who I met a week ago while I’m watching The Lion King in his bed. I might not know what I’m doing, but I know that I like it.
And just as his mouth drifts away from mine after a long minute or so, I feel him murmur against the corner of my lips, “You probably shouldn’t mention this to Tyler. He’d kick my ass.”
My eyes flicker open to meet his soft gaze, a small smile creeping onto my lips. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
Chapter 12
And so it’s only one week into my summer and I’m already waking up next to my stepbrother’s archnemesis. Way to go, Eden.
As my eyelids are flickering open to the sight of the sunlight streaming in through a gap in the blinds, I roll over to face the guy by my side. Jake’s stirring, his muscles bulging as he stretches, contracting in such a way that I suddenly become wide awake.
“Morning,” he mumbles. His voice is quiet as he sits up, rubbing his eyes and squinting at the window. He’s still fully dressed, and so am I.
“I slept here?” I blurt, which is a stupid question considering I quite blatantly did. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not only did I sneak out, I didn’t come home either. Dad is going to murder me. “I need to go home,” I say, adjusting my updo and getting to my feet. “Like, ASAP.”
“But, babe—” he starts, but is interrupted by a knock on the door. I don’t know what time it is, but I do know that it’s not the middle of the night, so I’m not surprised when a woman enters the room.
She studies us, folds her arms across her chest, looks me up and down, and then fixes Jake with a glare. “I knew you were sneaking a girl in here last night,” she says scornfully. “Does this one have a name?”
“Mom,” Jake hisses as he gets to his feet.
“No, Jake.” She shakes her head in disapproval, pointing behind her to the door. “She has five minutes to get out of here.”
I hear him groan as she leaves. Until this exact moment, I thought Jake was a nice guy. A guy so nice that I kissed him back last night. But now, all of a sudden, his mom’s attitude has left me with a few questions. My stomach churns.
“Do you take girls home often or something?” I murmur. Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I reach for my Converse and pull them on.
“No,” says Jake almost immediately. “She’s just kidding.”
I glance over my shoulder, furrowing my eyebrows to let him know I’m disheartened, to let him know that I’m not going to just brush off his mom’s words easily. He might not watch The Lion King with any girl, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t watch Aladdin with them. “I need to go,” I say.
“Okay,” he finally says, figuring out that I’m serious. If I waste any more time here, Dad will file a missing person report. “Let me grab my keys.”
For a long while, I stare at him as I contemplate which decision to make. I can’t conclude what’s worse: a guy taking me home or arriving at Dad’s house in a cab. Either way, I’ll look like I’ve had a scandalous night.
Jake pulls on a shirt and snatches his keys from the windowsill. I can’t help but wonder if it’s a daily routine. “Okay,” he says again. “Let’s make a move.”
We slip out into the hall, silently but quickly walking down the stairway in hopes of avoiding another run-in with his mom. Quite frankly, I don’t think she’s impressed. And I don’t think my dad will be either.
“What day is it?” I ask for the sake of conversation once we’re safely inside Jake’s car.
“Sunday,” he says. But by now his tone has softened, grown glum in a way that makes me wonder if he’s mad, his eyes half shut. It could be his mom’s interruption or my unwillingness to hang around with him all day that’s leaving him bummed out. But I need to get home and I need to get there as soon as possible.
“Okay,” I say. I divert my eyes to the road. Today, I’m far too tired to make the effort.
By the time we pull up outside my dad’s place, Jake has loosened up a little. He slowly turns off the ignition before turning to face me, a small grin playing at the corners of his lips. “We should do this again,” he says. “Stay at my place again next weekend. It’s my parents’ anniversary, so they won’t be there.”
“I mean, sure, we can hang out,” I say, albeit rather hesitantly. My opinion on him is too mixed right now.
“You can stay for the entire weekend.”