Page 10 of Beyond the Lines (Pine Barren University #1)

five

LEA

Declan’s lips taste like coffee.

The kiss is gentle at first, tentative, his mouth barely brushing mine. But when I press closer, sliding my hands up his chest, he groans softly and deepens the kiss. His fingers tangle in my hair as his tongue traces my bottom lip, and heat pools low in my belly.

This is what kissing should feel like.

Not the awkward fumbling of high school boys who treated my mouth like they were trying to win a tongue wrestling competition. Not even Chris’s technique, which always felt more performative than passionate, like he knew how to get from point A to point B with a map.

No, this is real.

Raw.

Electric.

My back hits the brick wall of Hughes Hall, and I gasp. Declan takes advantage of my parted lips, his tongue sliding against mine. Soon, his hand goes lower, caressing my ass. He pauses, as if asking for permission, and in response I arch into his touch, wanting more?—

“Lea! Wake up!”

Something hits my face—soft but insistent—and I jerk awake to find Em looming over me, wielding a pillow like a weapon. “Finally!”

“What…” I blink, trying to get my bearings. I’m not outside Hughes Hall, but in my bed, and I’m definitely not with Dec…

She bounces on my bed, making me groan as reality crashes down. “I’ve been trying to wake you! You were making these little happy noises in your sleep.”

Heat floods my cheeks. I was definitely making happy noises, but they had nothing to do with being asleep and everything to do with dream-Declan’s very talented mouth. I’d had a sneak preview—and man , what a sneak preview—at about three this morning, and my mind had gone with it…

“I got you a coffee, and it’s getting cold…” Em waves a paper cup under my nose. The rich aroma of dark roast mingles with… cinnamon?

“Cinnamon latte,” Em explains, grinning. “Since you liked that cider so much last night. In fact, speaking of last night…”

“Ah, the real reason for your interrogation is revealed…” I croak, a gooey smile crossing my face.

She settles cross-legged at the foot of my bed, dark eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Spill. Everything. Now.”

I push myself up against my headboard, accepting the coffee gratefully. “There’s nothing to spill.”

“Nothing to spill?” Em’s perfectly shaped eyebrows rise toward her hairline.

“Girl, you disappeared at that party—which, by the way, scared the shit out of us until Marnie said she saw you walking off with some hot guy. Then you come back at stupid o’clock in the morning, looking all dreamy and floating on air. ”

“I wasn’t floating.” I take a sip of coffee to hide my smile. “And I tried texting you guys after we got separated.”

“Yeah, about that.” Em narrows her eyes. “How exactly did your phone end up on Do Not Disturb mode?”

“Must have hit it by accident.” The lie slides out easily, when in truth I’d switched it on deliberately at the diner. “So, how was your night?”

“Nuh-uh! We’re not changing the topic!” Em glares at me. “And this mysterious hot guy who rescued you from party purgatory… does he have a name?”

“Declan.” The syllables feel warm on my tongue. “He’s an art major too. And that’s all you’re getting…”

“As if that’s all I’m getting.” Em laughs, then wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Did you… ummm… you know…”

“No!” I almost choke on my coffee, even as I feel heat in my cheeks. “We just talked about art and our families. He grew up on a ranch.”

“A hot cowboy artist?” Em fans herself dramatically. “Be still my heart. Tell me you at least got his number.”

I nod.

“And did you kiss him?” Em prompts.

My silence is all she needs to get carried away.

I’m unable to suppress my grin as I remember our goodbye kiss—my lips still tingle at the memory—and she squeals and wraps me in a hug.

But we both burst into laughter when she starts doing smoochy face kisses near my cheek, and I have to push her away.

“Have you texted him?”

“Not yet.” I glance at my phone on the nightstand.

“Perfect timing. ”

I take another sip of coffee. “That screams desperate.”

“No, it screams ‘I had fun.’” She grins. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

He could crush you like Chris did, my mind whispers. He could have a secret girlfriend. He could ? —

“Lea!” Em waves her hand in front of my face. “Where’d you go just now?”

“Nowhere.” I force a smile, pushing thoughts of Chris aside. “I’m just… taking it slow.”

Em’s expression softens. “Because of that guy from your trip?”

I tense. “Yeah.”

“Well, Declan seems different.” Em’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “I mean, what kind of guy takes a girl to a diner at three in the morning just to talk about art?”

“The kind who’s probably just being nice?”

“The kind who’s interested,” Em corrects. “Did he grope you? Try to get you back to his place?”

“No…”

“Then he’s very interested,” she squeals.

I grab my pillow and lob it at her head.

She dodges, laughing. “Tell me about him,” she says.

“Well…” I try to find the right words to describe him, but how do you capture someone in just a few sentences?

How do you explain the way his eyes light up when he talks about art, or how his laugh starts deep in his chest?

“He’s tall. Light brown hair that’s kind of wavy. The most incredible blue eyes…”

“Mmm.” Em nods approvingly. “And?”

“And what?”

“And… body…”

“No way!” I laugh, throwing my other pillow at her. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“My mind lives in the gutter. It’s cozy down here.” Em catches the pillow and hugs it to her chest. “So when are you seeing him again?”

“Today, maybe.” I try to sound casual, but my stomach does a little flip. “We talked about getting coffee.”

“Ooh!” Em bounces on the bed. “Can we social media stalk him first? What’s his last name?”

“No idea.” When Em’s jaw drops, I add defensively, “What? We only exchanged first names.”

“Are you serious?” Em stares at me like I’ve just admitted to not knowing how to use a smartphone. “How are we supposed to properly vet him?”

“By talking to him a few more times?” I suggest. “You know, like normal people did before Instagram?”

“Oh, honey.” Em pats my hand condescendingly. “You sweet summer child. That’s so… retro.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It wasn’t meant as one.” She shakes her head. “But fine, be all mysterious and old-school. Just promise me one thing?”

“What?”

“When you do find out his last name, we’re doing a deep dive.” She grins. “I need to know if there are any photos of him in a cowboy hat.”

I laugh. “Deal.”

“Speaking of food…” Em glances at her phone. “Want to grab breakfast? The dining hall has these amazing chocolate chip pancakes on Saturdays.”

“That sounds perfect, but I’m catching up with my brother,” I sigh, suddenly regretting agreeing to bagels, despite the inquisition from Em. “Catch up later? ”

“Perfect!” Em bounces off my bed. “But promise me you’ll text him.”

“Em…”

“Just a quick ‘had fun last night’ text,” she insists. “Trust me.”

I pick up my phone, staring at Declan’s number. Maybe Em’s right. Maybe I’m overthinking this. Maybe?—

“Oh my God, you’re totally having an internal debate right now, aren’t you?” Em groans. “Give me that.”

“Don’t you dare!” I clutch my phone to my chest protectively.

“Then text him!” She throws her hands up in exasperation. “Seriously, what’s the worst that could happen?”

He could be like Chris, my mind whispers again.

But I push the thought away. Declan isn’t Chris. Chris never looked at me the way Declan did last night, like I was fascinating, like every word I said mattered. And if there’s going to be anything between us, he deserves to be judged on his merits, not up against some other guy who broke my heart.

“Fine.” I sigh and unlock my phone. “But if this backfires, I’m blaming you.”

“I accept full responsibility.” Em mimes crossing her heart. “Now hurry up!”

I type out a quick message:

Thanks for rescuing me from that party last night. The diner was definitely an upgrade.

“There.” I show Em the screen. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

Only a second after I hit send, my phone buzzes, screen still facing Em. I snatch it back, resisting the urge to check it immediately, not sure if it’s Declan or not but desperately hoping it is, despite every brain cell telling me not to get pulled in by the lure of this guy.

Em exhales slowly through her nose. “You’re allowed to look, you know.”

I pull out my phone, trying to ignore the way my heart races when I see Declan’s name on the screen, and read:

So I tried drawing you last night, but I couldn’t quite capture that “I’m plotting your demise” look you gave me when you threw the French toast at my head. So I’m afraid I’m going to need to see you for a coffee later to conduct a second study on my subject…

A smile spreads across my face before I can stop it.

“Ooh, someone’s happy,” Em teases. “What did Cowboy Artist say?”

I quickly pocket my phone. “He just… wants to meet again.”

Em squeals. “This is so exciting! When? Where? What are you going to wear?”

“Slow down!” I laugh. “We haven’t even made plans yet.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She plants her hands on her hips. “Text him!”

“After breakfast,” I promise. “Right now, I need coffee and carbs.”

Pine Barren Bagels is pumping with students and faculty, which I’m told is typical for this time of the morning. What’s not typical is my brother, Mike, holding three different drinks—black coffee, orange juice, and blue Gatorade—like they’re crucial to avoiding death.

“Please,” he groans when I reach him, looking up at me from behind dark sunglasses. “You have to order for me. I can’t… words… people… anything…”

I bite back a laugh. “Rough night?”

“Tequila.” He shudders. “So much tequila. Maine kept pouring shots. I lost count after six.”

“Surprised it wasn’t the jungle juice in the trash can…” My voice trails off, as I remember the sight of the horrible concoction.

“Oh, it was that too…” He sighs.

I snort. “Go find a table before you fall over. I’ll bring the food.”