“So. Where is Ben anyway?”
Now we’re making idle conversation? Okay, I can do this. “Don’t you know? You’re the one who told me he’s gone for the weekend.”
Ash makes a scoffing noise, focusing his attention on the windshield in front of us. He shifts his right leg up so his knee is resting on the edge of the steering wheel, and I stare at him unabashedly. I swear to God he’s gotten even better looking over the last year. He’s filled out some. More defined muscles, taller. His jaw is sharper, there’s a shadow there, like he might need to shave, and I find that incredibly appealing.
“I don’t give a shit about what he’s doing,” he says morosely.
I sit up a little straighter, contemplating him. He’s lying. I can tell. I don’t know why I know this, but my senses are tingling big time, like I’m Spider-Man and I just discovered the Green Goblin has been sitting next to me the entire time. “Right. That’s why you keep bringing him up. Because you don’t give a shit about him.”
“I don’t.” It’s like he refuses to look at me. “That guy sucks.”
“That guy is my boyfriend.”
“And don’t the two of you make a lovely couple.” His voice pitches higher and wobbles, as if he’s trying to sound like a sweet old woman, and I want to laugh. “You probably have your baby names picked out along with your wedding colors.”
No wedding colors. But I do keep a running list of favorite names on the Notes app on my phone. That has nothing to do with Ben. I’m just trying to keep a record of my favorites.
“I don’t want to marry him,” I say.
“Really?” Ash turns his head toward mine, our gazes meeting once more. “I figured you two had already sealed the deal.”
He’s not talking about promises of marriage. He’s talking about sex. And I’m not admitting crap to him. “We’re very close.”
“That’s very nice.” He mimics my tone. “You two have my condolences.”
I frown again. “Isn’t that what you say to someone when they’ve lost their loved ones? Or they’re at a funeral?”
“Exactly. So it’s my condolences to you two for this ultra-amazing, soul-sucking relationship you’re involved in. Enjoy it while you can. You two kids deserve each other.” He’s reaching for the cigarette packet when I stop him, my fingers barely touching the warm, smooth skin of the inside of his wrist.
He stops moving, his gaze flickering to mine, and I slowly shake my head. “You’re just jealous.”
Another scoff. This one louder. “My ass I’m jealous.”
I part my lips, ready to let the accusations fly, when he’s suddenly tugging me down, my butt sliding off the old bench seat, my entire body folded into the passenger floorboard beneath the dash. I glance up to find Ash lying down, stretched across the entire bench seat, a wild look in his eyes.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I brush at the back of my legs, wondering exactly how many feet have rested against this floorboard over the years. And all the dirt and germs that might still linger.
Ash presses a finger against his mouth to silence me and I keep my lips tightly together, glaring at him for long, agonizing minutes, until he slowly raises his head before letting out a relieved breath.
“That was a close one.”
I’m rolling my eyes. “What happened?”
“A bunch of people from the cheer team just walked by and got in their cars.” At this very moment I hear the sounds of multiple engines starting.
“A bunch?” I know of a whopping two who were still in the cheer room, so I’m not sure what he’s talking about.
“A couple of cheerleaders, your bitch-ass coach. That chick who runs the band and looks younger than me, for fuck’s sake.” Ash shakes his head. “They’re the ones who walked by just now.”
So glad my coach didn’t see me with Ash. She might ask all sorts of questions. Questions I can’t answer. “Can I sit back on the seat then?”
“Sure.” He reaches for my hand and hauls me up, pulling with such force that I go toppling forward, landing right on top of him. Somehow, my knees end up on either side of hips, and I’m basically sitting on his lap. His hands automatically go to my waist, his fingers burning through the thick fabric of my uniform skirt, and I want to tell him to get his hands off me.
But I don’t.
I also want to tell him to stop staring at my mouth.
I don’t do that either.
It’s like I melt against him. My entire body goes soft. Then hot. His hands slide around, until his hands are pressed against the lowest spot of my spine, and I tilt my head up, my eyes sliding close when his mouth finds mine.
It’s wrong. So wrong. I’m with Ben. Ben is my boyfriend. He has been for six months, and like everyone says, we make a great couple.
Yet I can’t deny the electric spark that flashes between our lips at first contact. I can’t control the throbbing of my heart, the heat between my legs, the tingles that sweep over me in a slow, steady glide when Ash’s tongue slowly circles around mine.
That last kiss. Our first kiss, was all heat and impatience and hunger.
This kiss, our second kiss, is just as hungry. But slower. More determined.
More delicious.
One of his hands comes up, cupping the side of my face. The other hand slides down, over my butt, slipping beneath my pleated skirt. I have on briefs and his hand is right there, covering practically my entire left butt cheek, and then…
And then.
I’m climbing him like a tree, trying to get closer. My lips, my hands, my body is filled with this strange urgency I’ve never felt before. I want to rub my body on his like I’m a cat. I want to wrap my legs around his hips and squeeze extra tight. I’m desperate to ease the ache that’s growing inside of me. Growing, growing, growing until I’m panting against his lips.
He smiles, I can feel his lips stretching against mine, and he says, “See? I knew you’d be slobbering all over me.”
His words are the icy-cold dump of water over my head that I need. I push away from him, disentangling myself, scrambling off his lap. Red-hot embarrassment burns like a river inside me, splitting me open, leaving me raw.
“I hate you.” I fumble with the handle and somehow open the door, desperate to escape. To get away from Ash Davis once and for all.
He calls my name but I don’t look back. I’m running to my car, stabbing the keyless remote with my fingers, eager to get into the car for fear he might catch up to me. Touch me again.
Make me weak again.
I collapse into the driver’s seat and slam the door, starting the car and pulling out of the lot without thinking. I just do. My hands are on the steering wheel, I’m making my way home, turning onto all the right roads, and when I finally pull into our curved driveway, I realize I’m not sure how I made it here.
Dried tears leave my cheeks sticky, and my eyes burn. All because of him. That kiss, that moment was a mistake.
A big one.
Eleven
I spend the entirety of my Saturday in bed, holed up in my room. Mom and Dad left around two, taking my brothers and sister with them. They were going to a football game at the state university that’s about an hour away from us. They got special box seats thanks to someone Dad knows, and Mom practically begged me to go, but I told them I didn’t feel well and I’d rather stay home.
The last thing I wanted to do was go to the tailgate party and act like everything’s fine. Mom said I could bring Kaya, but she’s too perceptive. She’d know immediately something was up. I can’t tell her what happened. She’d tell Jaden and he’d tell Ben and it would turn into a huge mess. One I’m not ready to face yet.
That’s why I’m still in bed. Still weepy. The guilt is killing me, and it doesn’t matter how much I try to justify it by thinking, It was just a kiss. One little kiss. No big deal.