Kiss Me Like This

Chapter THIRTEEN

The next Friday, Sean showed up early again. But Serena was clearly expecting him this time, because as soon as he made it to the top of the stairs, she pushed her chair back and flew across the floor toward him.
He dropped the black duffel bag he’d brought with him and caught her in his arms. The clean, fresh scent of her hair and skin sent his system reeling even as the press of her curves against him made it nearly impossible to think straight.
All week long he’d thought about her. Wanted her. Waited for her. And now that she was in his arms…God, it was the best feeling in the entire world.
He could feel her heart beating hard as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his in a sweet, yet hungry, kiss. It took every ounce of his self-control to let her lead, but when she moved from simply pressing her lips against his to slicking her tongue against his lips, he didn’t have a prayer of holding back.
Two steps forward for him, two back for her, and he had her pressed up against the wall at the top of the stairs. When one of her legs automatically moved to wrap around his calf as she tried to pull him even closer, he grasped her thigh and lifted her leg so that he could feel the heat of her even through their two layers of denim.
When he’d kissed her at the frat party four weeks ago, and then again last Friday night, her kisses had been tentative and full of a surprising innocence. It all made sense now that he knew she’d hardly dated. But this time, as she threaded her hands through his hair and drew his mouth down even closer to hers, she seemed to know exactly what she wanted.
Him.
All he’d done for the past week was think about her, so who the hell knew what would have happened next if the voice hadn’t come over the speakers just then: Marie, you’re needed at the special membership desk.
The library. Jesus Christ, he’d actually forgotten where they were.
There was no one else up on the third floor on a Friday afternoon, but that didn’t mean someone couldn’t have shown up any second. Being caught grinding against each other at the top of the stairwell would blow their photo spread from last week out of the water.
Still, it wasn’t easy to make himself lower her leg from around his hips rather than pull her even closer. Her striking blue eyes were foggy with passion as she blinked up at him and he had to press his mouth to hers again one more time before he finally stepped back.
“Hello, beautiful.”
“Hi.” Her gaze had finally cleared, but she had lifted one hand to her mouth as she stared back at him, running her fingertips lightly over the place where he’d just been tasting her.
Wanting desperately to be the one touching her like that, but knowing there was no way he’d be able to pull himself back twice, he made himself shove his hands into his pockets instead. “It’s been a long week.”
“It really was,” she said softly.
More than once during the past week, he’d wished he could have already had her with him, warm and soft and gasping with pleasure in his bed while he made every fantasy a reality for both of them…and that he finally knew what sounds she made as she came apart in his arms and he made her his. Finally his.
But now he belatedly realized that they’d been right to wait. Not just because she truly hadn’t been ready and would likely have ended up hating him for taking too much too fast. But also because this anticipation they were both feeling was actually really hot.
And when they finally did come together...
Hell, even letting himself think about it right now was a dangerous road to go down.
Forcing himself back on task, he asked, “Are you ready for another totally normal Friday night on campus?”
For a moment, she looked a little surprised by the way he’d deliberately tried to bank the heat between them. But then she nodded as if she was determined to pull off the same shift in herself.
“I am.” She looked down at the bag he’d just picked up off the floor. “Did you come from working out?”
“Nope, these are our outfits.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Outfits?”
Of course, he could read her mind—and her newly flushed cheeks—enough to know that she’d immediately assumed he must have brought something sexy for her to change into.
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like your dirty mind,” he said with a grin. “Probably comes from reading all those books, doesn’t it? They give you more ideas, more possibilities, than other people.”
He expected her to protest, to say she didn’t have a dirty mind. Instead, she shrugged and said, “I have read about quite a few things over the years. Really interesting things. In fact, those ebooks you suggested I start downloading make it pretty easy to read all kinds of books without anyone ever knowing what’s on my screen.”
He barely held back a groan. Jesus, she was sexy. Not just her face and body, which were enough to scramble him up every time he looked at her, but the way her mind worked. All those brains. All those thoughts.
Sean tried like hell to shake the vision out of his head, but it was pretty much impossible. Fortunately, she took pity on him by asking, “Can I see what the outfits are?”
He walked over to the table in the corner where she’d been working and put the bag on it, then unzipped it and pulled out a Cardinal red Stanford Football long-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of matching sweatpants with the word Stanford running up the left leg. There were two of everything and he hoped she’d be laughing by the time he laid it all out, but instead she was biting her lip.
“It’s not that I don’t like the idea of going to a football game tonight. My roommate Abi said they’re lots of fun, and I’d love to experience it, but—”
“No one is going to recognize us, I promise. No more pictures of us are getting out. Not unless we want them to.”
“Even if we both wear all of this—” She gestured to the big pile of Stanford themed clothes he’d taken out of the bag. “—I can’t see how people won’t be able to figure out who we are.”
He unzipped a side pocket and pulled out a small, thin container. He flipped the top open to show her the palette of red, white, and green face paint.
“Face paint?”
He grinned at her incredulous expression. “And don’t forget these.” He held up a set of Cardinal red Stanford hats and sunglasses that had a sideways “S” curving around the frame.
There wasn’t another girl on the planet he would have done this with. No one but Serena.
She wasn’t just the girl he wanted the most...she was also the one he liked the best.
But she was still shaking her head. “You don’t actually plan on both of us dressing up like over-the-top Stanford Football fans and painting our faces with their colors, too, do you, while wearing these sunglasses?”
“It’s going to be great.”
That was when she started to laugh. “People would never guess it from looking at you, but you’re kind of weird.”
“Funny,” he said with a grin, “my sister Olivia was telling me that just the other day.”
* * *
Thirty minutes later they were ready. And he’d be lying if he didn’t admit to enjoying the hell out of painting up Serena’s face in greens and reds when they’d locked themselves in the bathroom for their transformation. It was another excuse to touch her. And to be closer.
“Wow,” she said as she looked at their reflections in the mirror. They’d both done such a thorough job with the face paint that even Sean could barely recognize either of them now that they both looked like Stanford Football obsessed kooks. “We look…” She started laughing too hard to finish her sentence.
“You wanted normal,” he said around his own laughter. “And it’s my pleasure to give it to you.”
Again she laughed, shaking her head as they walked out of the bathroom. “I asked my roommate if she knew there was a Frisbee Golf course on campus and she looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. I hope it’s okay with you that I told her we went out last week.”
“Why wouldn’t it be okay?” He’d shout it from the rooftops, if he could.
“I don’t know. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Neither have I, Serena.”
“It’s just...I don’t know what the rules are.”
He reached for her hand and tugged her closer. “There aren’t any rules. The only thing that matters is that you feel good about what we’re doing.” But when he could see that she was still conflicted over the whole thing, he added, “And just for the record, the only reason I’m not going to kiss you again right now is because it will seriously screw up your face paint. Especially the green lipstick.”
Again, laughter transformed her wildly painted face and he nearly messed it up by kissing her anyway. But they had a Friday night football game to get to and he didn’t want her to miss a second of the normal college experiences he was giving her, so he stuffed her bag into his empty one, slung it over his shoulder, then headed down the stairs with her hand in his.
Janice looked up from the information desk as they walked by and gave them a thumbs-up. “Go Cardinal!”
“Have a great weekend,” he said to the only person on campus who knew who was behind the crazy outfits and face paint.
“Oh, Serena,” Janice called out when they were almost out the door, “I almost forgot to tell you that the transfer for the Ansel Adams books you requested should be coming in tomorrow morning. I’ll send you an email once I’ve got them.”
He swore he could see Serena flush even through the thick layer of dark makeup. “Thanks, Janice.” She waited until they were outside before telling him, “When I looked at his pictures with you, it made me wonder about the man behind the camera.”
“I always did, too. Ansel Adams is a very interesting man.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment. “It didn’t just make me wonder about him, though. It made me wonder about you, too.” She turned to meet his gaze. “About your photos. Because you take them, don’t you?”
He knew she was waiting for his answer, but he didn’t have a good one to give her. “Yeah, I used to be pretty into photography.” Knowing that his used to stuck out like a sore thumb, he added, “But my photos weren’t anything special.”
“I wish I could just request a book of them so that I could see for myself,” she said softly. “But since I can’t, I guess I’ll have to wait for you to want to show them to me, won’t I?”
He hated disappointing her, especially when she was putting her trust in him each Friday night. Sure, playing Frisbee Golf and dressing up like crazies to see a football game wouldn’t normally be huge things, but if he were to slip the information to a tabloid or photographer—if he called up a journalist and told them about how all Serena Britten wanted was to be normal—these little things they were doing together would become huge stories in an instant.
So since she was trusting him with so much, it wasn’t fair for it to only go one way. But he hadn’t even talked much with his brothers and sisters about his feelings over losing their mother.
Then again, maybe answering Serena’s question about his photography didn’t have to be about his mom. Maybe he could just tell her about himself and that would be enough. For now, at least.
“My sister Olivia had one of those little toy Barbie cameras as a kid. I stole it from her and wouldn’t give it back.” He liked hearing Serena’s laughter. It made it feel easier to talk to her about things. “At first I mostly took pictures of the sky. Trees. Water. Bugs. People came last, and only because when I was a kid they reminded me of bugs.”
“They did?”
“Sure. Some are social. Some are solitary. But everyone’s just trying to stay alive. And when you get a good up-close shot, they all look pretty funny.”
“What kind of pictures do you like taking now?”
“I haven’t taken any in a while.”
She was quiet for a few moments, but he could practically hear the gears in her head working. Finally, she said, “You know, if you ever want...” She paused, clearly uncertain about what she was about to say. “I know bugs are a much better subject than I could ever be, but if you—” She paused to swallow hard again. “—if you ever want to use me to practice working with light or shadows or whatever, I’d be happy to help.”
The thing was, by that point he’d started to get a pretty clear picture of the fact that after nearly two straight decades of modeling, she didn’t much care for being photographed. But before he could reply, a stranger walked up to them with his phone out.
“Hey, any chance I could get a pic of the two of you for my Stanford Football blog?”
With everything in this section of the campus close together, they’d quickly gotten close enough to the stadium to be surrounded by other football fans. Tailgates were wrapping up in the parking lots all around them and the smell of barbecues and beer permeated the air. Fortunately, until now, no one had so much as looked over at them with any recognition whatsoever, given that there were just enough other crazy football fans in similar getups that they barely stood out.
But even though he doubted the guy with the blog had a clue who he was talking to, when Serena immediately flinched and turned away from the camera, Sean told him, “Actually, there’s a group of about ten guys over there who would be way better for your blog. One has even painted his entire body like a tree.”
The blogger bounded off, but Sean could see that Serena was still tense. She’d actually cringed at the thought of the guy taking her picture. That was how much she hated it.
And yet she’d offered to model for him?
“Hey,” he said, reeling from the knowledge of just how huge her offer had been—and how tempting the thought of photographing her was even though he never thought he’d want to pick up a camera again, “it’s okay. He didn’t know who we were.”
She stepped out of the way of a couple of girls who were taking a selfie. “Thanks for throwing that guy off our scent.”
He knew she was trying to change the subject, but first he had to know, “If you didn’t like your job, why did you do it for so long?”
“I liked it at first, or at least I thought I did because everyone was so nice to me when the pictures were good. But by the time I realized I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life standing in front of a camera…” She paused. “So many girls dream of being on magazine covers and in Paris fashion shows that I always felt like a snot when I wanted out, so I tried to stop wanting it. But then I realized I couldn’t keep ignoring my own dreams forever. I just couldn’t. So that was when I made the decision to apply to college.”
“Sometimes baseball feels like that for me.”
“It does?”
He could see that he’d surprised her. Hell, he’d surprised himself, too, not only by admitting that, but also by saying it out loud.
“I’m good at it. Really good.” It wasn’t bragging when it was the truth. “And when we’re winning and everything is clicking and the crowd is going nuts, I’m not going to lie and say it isn’t pretty damned fun.”
“Being on the runway was like that sometimes. If the designer was really spectacular and I knew fashion history was being made that day, it was pretty cool. But every time I met people who had real passion for clothes and fashion, I’d end up feeling like a fraud for not being one of them.”
“Most of the guys on the team, especially the ones who are good enough to go pro, they live and breathe the game. So I know what you mean about feeling like a fraud sometimes.”
Just then, the campus mascot—a seven-foot-tall redwood tree made out of sewn-together pieces of felt—danced by them with the Stanford band not far behind. The campus band was notorious, not only for their crazy outfits, but also for their shocking antics. Tonight it looked like they were going to be putting on one of their better shows, as the guys were all dressed in drag and they were playing a dirty “alternate” version of Come Join the Band.
There was no way Sean and Serena could have kept from laughing at the perfect break in what had become far too serious a conversation for a Friday night football game. He wanted to get to know her better, but he was just starting to realize that sharing didn’t go one way. He couldn’t just dig into her past, her secrets, her fears and dreams without letting her do the same to him.
The things was, he thought as he handed the girl at the gate their tickets, he didn’t know if he was ready to go there yet. But could he do it for Serena?