Page 140 of The Play Maker

I run a hand through my hair, trying to gather whatever’s left of my self-control.

“Maisie,” I say, my voice rough, “you know I do. But I told you I’d go slow. And I meant it. I don’t want to fuck that up just because?—”

My words trail off when she places her hands flat against my chest, running them up until she wraps them around my neck. “But what if I don’t want you to go slow?”

It punches the air right out of me.

I freeze, blinking at her. And when she lifts onto her tip-toes and presses a soft kiss against my lips, I groan, pulling her closer as I step inside her dorm.

The door clicks shut behind us as she kicks off her shoes. I do the same, following her across the room.

We fall onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs. She’s under me, her hands sliding up my chest, warm and eager and a little shaky, and it’skilling me. My blood’s rushing so loud I can barely hear myself think.

My fingers find her waist, slipping beneath the hem of her shirt. Her skin’s so fucking soft and hot under my hands. She shivers at my touch, and my stomach tightens because I want to give her everything I have, every bit of me.

I hover over her, my breath ragged, trying to keep it together. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” I whisper.

Her hands slip under my shirt, her fingertips grazing my bare skin, and I let out a shaky breath, pressing closer. My own hands explore the curve of her side, the gentle dip of her back. Her body arches toward me, and when I trail my lips just below her ribs, she gasps.

I pull back slightly, my hand resting at the hem of her shirt. “Can I take this off?” I ask. “I want to see you.”

There’s a flicker of hesitation, a pause that makes my chest tighten. Then she nods, lifting her arms a little.

I ease the fabric up slowly, inch by inch. I’m not rushing this. Not with her. I want to savor every single second.

But just as the shirt clears her chest, she jerks, her hand snapping out to shove mine away. “Wait—no.”

I freeze instantly. Her shirt’s halfway off, caught awkwardly, and I pull it back down without saying anything, my heart thudding in my chest.

I shift back, giving her space. “I’m sorry. I thought?—”

“No, I just—” She’s already tugging the fabric down, arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t know why I freaked out. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” I say, sitting up. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She won’t look at me. Her jaw’s tight, and her eyes are shining in a way that makes my stomach twist. “We’ve done stuff before,” she says quietly, like she’s trying to explain it toherself. “I don’t know… I just… I thought I was okay, but then?—”

“Then you weren’t,” I finish softly. “You’re not ready and that’s okay. I can wait as long as you need.”

Her lips press into a thin line. She shakes her head, frustrated. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

My chest aches. “You’re not,” I say. “Maisie—hey, look at me.”

She does, locking those clear blue eyes with mine.

“I’m not here because I’m trying to get laid. I’m here because I like you and want to spend time with you. And if your body’s saying no, I’m listening. Every time. No matter what we’ve done before.”

Her throat bobs like she’s swallowing back something sharp. “I don’t want you to think I’m teasing you or that I changed my mind or?—”

“Baby.” I scoot closer, careful not to touch her until she lets me. “You’re allowed to change your mind. You’re allowed to have boundaries even if you were kissing me five seconds ago. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I just…” She fiddles with the hem of her shirt. “I don’t want you to be frustrated,” she whispers. “Or get bored of waiting and—” She shakes her head. “I’ve heard the rumors, Austin. I know what you were like before?—”

“Before what?” I cut her off. “Beforeyou?”

She blinks up at me, unsure.

I reach up, tracing my thumb along her cheek. “That’s the point, Maisie. That was all before I opened my eyes and saw you. Before I knew you. Before I wanted no one and nothing but you.”