A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime (Lancaster Prep )

By the time our meals arrive, I’m starving, and I stare at my salad in dismay, the scent of Crew’s lunch wafting toward me, making my stomach growl. I watch as he brings the burger to his mouth and takes a big bite, my gaze lingering on his lips. How he chews. Swallows. Grabs a couple of fries and dips them in ketchup before he drops them into his mouth.

I stab my fork in the bowl of salad like I’m trying to murder lettuce and kale, shoveling it in, frustration rippling through me as I eat, wishing there were at least pieces of chicken in it. It’s good, but I bet I’ll end up hungry again within the hour.

“You’re watching me eat as if you want to steal the burger out of my hands,” Crew says at one point, amusement in his voice.

“It looks delicious,” I admit.

“Why didn’t you order one?” He takes another bite.

“I don’t eat a lot of red meat,” I admit, which is true.

“Why not?” His gaze narrows. “You don’t think you’re fat, do you?”

I shake my head. Shrug. “Maybe? I don’t know. I need to watch my weight.”

“You’ve got big tits, Bird. That’s it. And a nice ass.” He drops the crude compliments so easily, making me blush.

“They’re too big,” I whisper, briefly glancing down at my chest.

“No, they’re definitely not.” He’s staring at them, then blinks, as if shaking himself out of a trance. He holds the burger toward me. “Want a bite?”

I’m dying for a bite. I nod, and he feeds it to me, placing the burger in front of my mouth as I sink my teeth into it. The moment the flavors burst on my tongue, I’m moaning, savoring it as I chew slowly and eventually swallow.

Crew is staring at me, his lips parted. The half-eaten burger still clutched in his hand. “You’re sexy when you eat.”

My blush deepens. “I’m sure I look like a pig.”

“You definitely don’t.” He drops the burger on his plate and pushes it toward me. “Have some fries.”

We share his plate, clearing everything in minutes, the salad long forgotten. When the server stops by, Crew orders more fries and lets me eat most of them, watching me with an amused look on his face the entire time.

Like I entertain him, which is both thrilling and scary. I don’t know what we’re doing, but I’ve decided to stop wondering about his motives and just go with it.

“You never did answer my question,” I say to him as I’m still devouring fries.

He frowns. “What question?”

“Why you want to take me out for my birthday.” I sip from my water glass. “You barely know me.”

“I’m getting to know you.”

“And sometimes you still act as if you don’t like me.”

“Right back at you.” He smiles.

Ugh, he’s too pretty when he does that.

“I just don’t go out for my birthday with some random boy,” I say, my voice small.

“I’m not just some random boy, as you call me. We’ve known each other for a while,” he says, as if that makes all the sense in the world for him wanting to take me out.

“And you’ve treated me terribly since day one,” I remind him.

“Yet here you are, sitting in a restaurant having lunch with me.” The smile is still there, and I’m tempted to slap it off his face.

Or kiss it off.

Okay fine, more like kiss it off.

Clearing my throat, I decide to be brave for once in my life.

“Do you like me now, Crew? Or is this some sort of secret trick you’re going to pull on me? Is Ezra lurking around the corner, filming us together? Or maybe it’s Malcolm. He seems to dislike me more.”

Anger flushes his face and his eyes burn as he glares at me. “No one is secretly filming us. Don’t put me on the same level as Larsen.”

“I’m not, it’s just…” My voice drifts and I stare out the window for a moment. “I don’t know if I should trust your motives.”

That’s as real and as raw as I can get. Being with Crew is exciting, but it’s also…

Scary.

For all sorts of reasons. Good and bad.

When I return my attention to him, I find he’s watching me, his expression serious. He’s quiet for so long, I start to wiggle in my seat.

“You should trust me,” he finally says. “I like you, Birdy. And I don’t go chasing after random girls in art galleries on a Saturday morning. That’s not my style.”

I dip my head, unable to stop the smile from spreading across my face. A thousand butterflies just hatched in my stomach, their fluttering wings making me giddy.

“I have a question for you,” he says, right when I shove the last fry in my mouth.

I pause in my chewing, swallowing before I say, “Whenever you start a sentence like that, it always ends up being an uncomfortable subject for me.”

“We’re getting to know each other, remember? I’m curious about you.”

“Okay.” I drag the word out.

“About the ring. How that came about.” His gaze drops to my hand. “The purity ball or whatever it’s called. Why did you go?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got all afternoon to listen.” He leans back in his chair, making himself comfortable.

God, he’s so annoying sometimes. Always asking me about stuff I don’t want to talk about.

Yet here I am, ready to tell him all about it.

“It started before the ring. I did something that—scared my parents when I was twelve,” I admit.

His gaze flickers with interest. “What happened?”

“I got my first phone and I immediately joined a bunch of forums that focused on stuff I was interested in. Mostly boy bands.”

“One Direction?”

I nod. “It’s a rite of passage for preteen girls around my age.”

“I was always partial to Harry,” he teases. At my surprised look, he continues, “I have a sister, I know about One Direction.”

“Everyone loves Harry. I liked Niall. But anyway.” I wave a hand. “I spent a lot of time on these forums and I met a boy on there. He was fifteen.”

“That should’ve been your first clue something was up. What fifteen-year-old dude goes on those forums to talk about One Direction?” Crew rolls his eyes.

“I was only twelve. I didn’t know.” I shrug, feeling defensive. “Anyway, we started talking. A lot. He asked me for a photo and I sent him one. He shared his photo with me. Lots of photos. He was really cute. Sweet. He seemed to understand me, when no one else really ever has.”

I go quiet, the memories painful. I was gullible. Completely innocent. I believed in him so strongly, I thought we could be together. He would be my boyfriend.

“What happened?” Crew asks quietly.

“He wanted to meet me. In Central Park on a beautiful spring day, so I agreed.” I press my lips together, my gaze growing distant. “I took my friends though. They wouldn’t let me go alone.”

“You have good friends.”

“Had. We all went our separate ways when I got into Lancaster.” A sigh leaves me. “He never showed, and I was just…devastated. We waited at the park for hours, until it started getting dark. My friends comforted me, but I cried standing in the middle of Central Park, believing I’d been dumped. The moment I got home and finally checked the forum, I had a bunch of direct messages from him, yelling at me in all caps that he actually went to the park. He even saw me, but he was angry because I brought my friends. He just wanted me there alone, he said.”

“If he was fifteen, he wouldn’t have cared,” Crew observes.

“Exactly. And he wasn’t fifteen. He was thirty-nine. Married with a couple of kids. The photos he shared with me were of his oldest son.” My appetite leaves me and I shove the plate away. “I was so humiliated.”

“How did you find out he was a perverted dad looking to get with a little girl?” Crew’s expression is thunderous.

“After the missed meeting, I couldn’t stop crying, and I was so depressed. I stopped talking to him as much, and he kept trying to get me to meet up with him, but I refused. I thought he would just trick me again and not show up. I’m so glad I didn’t go.” A shuddery breath leaves me. “My parents were aware that I was upset, but I wouldn’t tell them anything. My father eventually did a search of my phone and found out about the relationship I had with the boy. He’s the one who discovered who he really was by hiring a private investigator. It was so embarrassing.”

“What happened after that?”

“Turns out the guy talked to other girls my age and even met with a few of them—and raped them.”