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fifteen

Elsy

Before I know what’s come over me, I rise onto my toes and kiss him. He tastes like the beer he’s been sipping, with an undercurrent of fresh mint and something familiar. It takes me back to that night all those years ago. And where that would usually make me sad or even angry, right now, I’m remembering the good.

Wyatt cups my cheek, deepening the kiss. His lips whisper against mine, telling me something I don’t think I’m ready to hear.

One day, maybe one day soon, I’ll be able to listen. But I’m not ready. I don’t know if I ever will be. All I know is, there’s a gorgeous guy kissing me back, and even though I think I hate him… I also think I don’t. Hate him, that is.

Henry goes away, and I notice the loss only in the faraway corner of my brain. My entire focus narrows in on Wyatt and this moment, this kiss.

Fuck, can he kiss. Did I forget, or did I bury it in the far recesses of my mind?

Wyatt makes a soft noise into my mouth. He breaks the kiss, but he doesn’t go far, resting his forehead on mine. His soft breaths puff against my lips, sending a shiver down my spine.

“I’m sorry,” I say automatically.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’ve wanted to do that all night.”

It’s my turn to pull back. “What?”

He nods, meeting my eyes. “Ever since I saw you in the stands.”

“Wyatt…”

He looks around at the crowded dance floor. “This isn’t the place to talk. Do you want to keep talking, or do you want to dance?”

I pause.

I want to get to the bottom of this. What does it mean? Is he trying to hook up and bounce? Or, fuck, will he get me naked and then destroy me again?

But as I look at the serious, open expression on his face… I know I have to trust him. Trust myself.

“Let’s dance.”

He nods, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth before he sets his hand back on my hip. His thick, wide body presses against me from behind, crowding me in the best way. I’m surrounded by him, enveloped in his warm scent, citrus and clove and a little bit of musk. The familiarity of it is reassuring. Surrounded by hundreds of strangers, I know he’s there to protect me.

A few weeks ago, I’d have laughed myself silly at the idea that Wyatt would ever look out for me. He doesn’t give two shits about me. And maybe that was true then. But over the last few days, something has changed. I can’t put my finger on it. I only know that the Wyatt I’ve gotten to know lately is different from the guy who could barely stand to look at me the day I moved here.

That guy never would have kissed me.

Or let me kiss him.

Why did I kiss him?

It’s not the alcohol; I’ve barely had two sips of my drink. Something else must be wrong with me. Maybe it’s a brain tumor.

Or maybe I simply wanted to. Does it have to be more than that?

Wyatt slips his hand from my hip to wrap his arm around my belly, hauling me back against him. “I’m doing some pretty good work here,” he says low in my ear. “What’s going on with you?”

He brushes his nose against my hair.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re stiff as a board.” He’s practically hugging me. “Do you not want this?”

Turning in the circle of his embrace, I spin to face him. He pulls my arms around his neck and slides his hands down my back until we’re chest to chest. I can feel every inhalation he makes.

His icy blue eyes are locked on mine.

I want to kiss him again. I might even want to do more than that. But I won’t do it on the dance floor of this seedy club.

“Elsy,” he says, his voice rumbling through me. “What’s going on?”

“Let’s get out of here.” My voice wavers and I swallow my fears. My eyes flick to his plush, kissable lips, then back up. “Take me home, Wyatt.”

His eyes search mine urgently. “Els?—”

“Take me home.”

Withdrawing, he nods slowly. He offers me his hand and, when I take it, he laces our fingers together.

Tipping back his beer bottle, he drains it in one go, the thick column of his throat working as he swallows. Heat sizzles through me. I don’t understand this unexpected attraction to him. It’s completely out of nowhere.

Except it’s not. He’s been different lately. It just took me a while to catch up.

Once we’re out of the club, the evening chill hits like a brick wall. I shiver and Wyatt draws me into his side, his arm draped around my shoulder to protect me from the brisk wind.

“Do you want to?—”

“Shut up,” I cut him off.

He falls silent, miming zipping his lips. When we get to the car, he unlocks my door for me to slide in, then hurries around to the driver’s side. He always does that. Opens my door, that is. But I never noticed until he pointed it out.

What else have I missed?

Once he sets the car in drive, his hand falls off the gearshift to land on my knee. I set my hand on his and he looks over at me, sending me a happy smile.

“Yeah?”

Am I ready for more than a kiss? Am I ready to let my guard down, to truly let him in?

So I grab his hand, drawing it up to where I want him, high on my upper thigh. His fingers flex, gripping my flesh before he lets out a gusty sigh and relaxes.

I still don’t know where I want the rest of the night to go. I’m not sure what I’m ready for.

The air in the car is thick with tension. I don’t know what to say, what to do. It feels wrong to make small talk. Hey, you just had your tongue in my mouth, let’s talk about the weather? Come on.

When we reach my apartment, he pulls into the visitor spot out front and cuts the engine before turning to face me.

“What do you want, Elsy?” His voice is as smooth as velvet, his eyes focused on mine. “Do you want me to walk you to your door? Or do you want to call it a night?”

He’s putting himself out there. The least I can do is the same.

“I want you to come in,” I finally say. My hands shake and I clasp them together to hide it. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but…”

Wyatt swallows. “Okay. Yeah, I can do that.”

Together, we exit the car. His hand finds mine so naturally, his thumb stroking the back of my knuckles as we walk through the building to my door.

It takes me three tries to get the key in the lock. His hand covers mine.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs. “Nothing has to happen that you don’t want.”

“I know,” I snap. He can’t force me to do anything I don’t want to do. Not that I think he ever would. He might be an asshole, but he’s not that way. He’d never push me past my limit or do anything without my explicit consent.

“And if you want me to leave, I can?—”

“Don’t.” The word slips out before I can stop it, and I swallow my hesitation, my eyes flicking up to his. “Don’t go.”

Wyatt nods slowly. “Okay. I won’t go.”

He takes the key from me to unlock the door, holding it open for me. I probably should have picked up before I left for the game, but I wasn’t exactly expecting company.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” he asks.

“Shut up, Wyatt.”

“Shutting up.”

Okay. Oxygen floods my lungs as I take a slow, deep, calming breath, steadying my nerves. I’m not sure what my limit is, but he seems game to play, so… Fake it until the confidence is real. I can do that.

As I press on his chest, he takes a step back, then another, until he lets me walk him over to the couch. The cushion dips as he sits automatically, and before I can regret it, I straddle his lap.

“Hi.” My voice comes out hoarse.

“Hello.” His smile is audible. “What do you want, Elsy?”

“Why do you keep asking me that?”

“Because I want to know.” He runs a hand through the wispy tufts of hair that have fallen out of my ponytail. “I want to know everything about you.”

Hesitantly, I wind my arms around his neck, and he lets out a soft sigh, adjusting my positioning until we’re practically nose to nose. He darts forward and pecks my lips. A simple, quick kiss.

“Why?”

“Because I do.” He gives a little shrug. “Why not?”

“Most people don’t.” I look away, but his hand on my cheek brings my focus back to him.

“I’m not most people.”

“No, you’re not.”

His eyes search mine. There’s a heaviness in his gaze, some deeper meaning I’m not sure of.

Carefully, he cups the back of my head, then brings his lips to mine. The kiss is soft. Tentative.

I don’t want tentative.

Deepening the kiss, I sweep my tongue into his mouth, tasting him again. He fights me for control, but I stand my ground, not backing down. He’s always so controlled, so careful. Just once I’d love to see what he’s like when he lets go.