Page 9

9

SCARLETT

T here’s been a seed of thought sprouting in my brain lately that I’ve been weary of acknowledging.

But when I curl up naked, shrieking in laughter while Lane tickles me on my mattress, a gentle breeze rustling through my open window and cooling the sheen of sweat over my bare body, my mental walls crumble along with my physical ones.

Since sleeping with Lane, these have been the best two weeks of my life.

“I knew you were full of shit,” Lane says as his naked body towers over mine, the weight of his semi-hard cock feeling so impossibly good on my hip.

“Well, I thought I wasn’t ticklish,” I bark out past spams of laughter, still coiled up in defense.

Lane’s eyebrows bounce. “Guess you just haven’t run into anyone with fingers as talented as mine before.”

I roll my eyes as he wiggles his fingers in front of them. Some of those fingers were responsible for giving me my first of two orgasms just a couple minutes ago.

Lane lies on his side next to me. “Which of these tattoos was your first?” he asks, his touch feathering over the designs.

“This one,” I say, pointing to the pair of cute little ghosts on my forearm.

The pad of his thumb skates over it. “I like them.”

“Ever think of getting a tattoo yourself?”

“Need I remind you?” He makes a square shape with his thumbs and forefingers again.

I roll my eyes, flicking him on the chest. “You should get one. You’d look good inked up.”

“Does that mean I don’t look good now?”

“Don’t go fishing for compliments.”

He laughs. “Fine. I know I do, anyway.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “What should I get to lose my tattoo virginity? Tattoginity? Is that what we should call it?”

I snort. “No, that’s not what we should call it.” I purse my lips thoughtfully, thinking back to the night we spent at the pool hall. “A penguin holding a pool cue. That should be your first tattoo.”

Lane laughs again, shaking his head. “I’ll take that under consideration.”

I nudge him playfully. “You won’t do it. Chicken.”

Lane and I have spent almost every day of the last two weeks together. We’ve gone to the zoo (I didn’t get kicked out this time), museums, parks, and just spent days wandering around exploring the many diverse neighborhoods of Chicago.

We’ve also spent a good chunk of that time having the most mind-blowing sex of my life.

It feels surreal sometimes. Being out here, further away from my hometown than I’ve ever been, completely removed from my regular life other than my friendship with Demi, ensconced in the dream world of a bright, hot summer and knee-deep in a fling with the sexiest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Lane gets changed and leaves for an afternoon session at his training camp. When I’m left alone in my room, my mind goes back to something that’s been irking me for the past twenty-four hours.

Yesterday, I could’ve sworn I saw Caleb.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone who looked so much like him, a block away from Demi’s place. But when I did a double take, he was gone.

For the dozenth time, I push the thought away. If it really was Caleb, I’m sure I’d have heard from him by now.

I approach my window and look down at Lane walking away on the sidewalk. The bird’s eye view of his full blonde head and his broad shoulders has a buzzing feeling tingling between my thighs, even though we just wore each other out.

If I didn’t know that this fling of ours had a hard end date and that that date was coming up way sooner than later, I know I’d find myself falling for Lane. Falling fast. And hard.

But throughout the day, when it’s hard to think of anything else but Lane until I see him again, and when I light up from the bottom of my feet to the tips of my fingers after he plants a chaste kiss on my lips when I do later on …

I wonder if maybe I already have.