“Okay.”
“Do you really think I’m going to have sex with you this weekend?”
My throat threatens to close. “What are you talking about?”
She turns toward me, pulling her leg back onto the couch. “You know.”
I can’t take her perceptive gaze. “I don’t.” My voice comes out way too high.
She lifts an eyebrow. “You’re going to make me say it?”
I stare at her. “Yeah.”
She points to the hallway. “You totally bought condoms at that convenience store.”
My cheeks are so hot you could light a candle with them. “How did you know that?”
She holds up her phone. “You were acting all guilty in there, sneaking around. I used the zoom from my camera.”
“Stalker,” I say.
“Don’t change the subject. Nicolette’s with Dev, and Greta’s gay, so you thought you were going to have sex with either Jasmine or me, and I highly doubt it was Jasmine because you would have to insert yourself between her and Nat in order to pull that off, and we both know that’s impossible.”
I spin my phone on my finger. “I was getting them for Dev.”
“Bullshit,” she says.
I roll my eyes. She’s way too insightful for her own good. “My dad made me.”
She blinks. “What?”
“He figured out that it wasn’t just guys coming on this trip, and he made me promise to buy condoms. He said he was going to check his bank to make sure there was a convenience store charge.”
“You’re kidding.”
I shake my head. “I wish. He’s just afraid I’m going to do something to screw up his plans for me, which aren’t even my plans for myself.”
“He thinks you’re going to get a girl pregnant,” she says.
“I don’t think he thinks that. I just think he’s making sure all his bases are covered.”
She rests her head on the back of the couch. “Sounds like my mom.”
I turn to her. “Really?”
She nods, staring off at the kitchen. “She keeps trying to get me to go on the pill.” She holds up a finger. “But you’ve got to use condoms as well. It’s so important to make for damn sure you don’t get pregnant…like I did.” She says the last part under her breath.
I lay my head on the cushion, too, facing her. “Is that what happened? Your mom got pregnant young?”
“She was like twenty. It wasn’t like she was fifteen.”
“My mom’s still holding out for the old abstinence approach,” I say.
“My mom’s way is more effective, I think. Something about having your mom shove protection down your throat makes you want to never have sex.”
I huff a laugh. “It is pretty sexy. You could be right in the middle of it and then this picture of your parent passing out condoms could pop into your head.” We both shudder at the idea.
Then she gets tickled about something.
“What?”
“So basically, your dad thinks we’re having sex right now.”
I nod. “Pretty much.”
She laughs harder, holding her hand on her stomach.
I look her up and down. “Well, it’s not that funny.” She can’t stop laughing. I sit up, turning toward her. “Why is that so funny?”
“Don’t you think it’s funny? The irony?”
I look forward at the mantel on the fireplace, the pictures of our family on a ski trip to Aspen when I was nine, and one of us in Maine when I was thirteen.
I point to the pictures. “How am I going to have sex with pictures of my parents staring down at me?”
Her laugh turns into a giggle, and she faces me. “We could always turn them facedown.”
I swallow. “I…guess so.”
She smiles and then clasps her hands in her lap. “Nah, I’m not going to have my first time be in a house full of people.”
I blink, a surge of something heated and full of tingles shooting up through my chest.
She cuts her eyes at me. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m no saint. I’ve done plenty. Just not exactly…it.”
I turn away from her and rest my elbow against the arm of the couch. I don’t want to think of what she’s done and with whom, but I can’t help but be a little freaked out to hear that she’s as inexperienced as I am when it comes to…it.
“Well, I didn’t mean to shut you up,” she says.
I put my head on my fist. “I’m still talking.”
She pokes me with her foot. “About what? I don’t hear you.”
I can’t think of a single word to say. All I can think about is how fuzzy my stomach feels right now.
“What about you, Miles Cleveland? How big of a saint are you?”
I shrug, playing it as cool as possible.
“What about you and fish taco girl? What’s the story there?”
I turn and face her. “Why are you so curious?”
Her cheeks turn a little pink. “I’m not. I’m just teasing you.”
I point at myself. “You want some of this?”
She picks up a pillow and bops me on the head. “You’re such a dork.” She grabs for the remote. “What’s on?” When she sits back, I swear she moves closer to me.
She flips channels and lands on a romcom. We sit there, both with our arms folded over our chests, and watch for a while, but I have no idea what the story is. All I’m doing is thinking about how close she is to me.
The deck door opens and Jasmine comes in, wrapped in a towel. “I’m going to bed.”
Nat follows in behind her making a production of stretching. “Me, too. Shall we, honey?”
She gives him a look and then turns back to Jenna. “Come on back when you’re ready. It’s a king. We can all three fit fine.”
Nat scrubs his hands together. “Yes, we can.”
Jasmine backhands him. “I meant Greta and us. Not you, dumbass.”
He shrugs. “It’s always worth a try.”
Jasmine gives a wave as she heads down the hall. “Night, y’all.”
“Night,” Jenna says.
Nat salutes us. “Till tomorrow.”
About fifteen minutes later a noise sounds from the hallway like a buzz saw.
She mutes the television. “Do you hear that?”
“It’s Nat,” I say. “He’s always been a snorer.”
“Oh my god. How does he sleep through that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s never been a problem for him.”
“You can’t sleep back there with him,” she says.
“I’ll sleep here.”
She wiggles a little. “It is comfortable.”
I eye her. “It’s more comfortable than that futon we slept on at your apartment.”
She meets my gaze and shrugs. “I was comfortable.”
I hold her gaze, and neither of us looks away. I have to keep reminding myself of what I’m fighting so hard against with her. Just one kiss. That’s all I want. It wouldn’t mean I would fight less hard for the talent show, and it wouldn’t mean we would have to have sex. It would just be a kiss.
“I want to kiss you,” I say, but my body is saying so much more.
She shrugs. “Then you should.”
“You told me to have self-control.”
She rests her head back on the cushion. “You talk way too much.”
I scoot closer to her, and she doesn’t meet me in the middle. She waits for me to come to her. The closer I get, the more nervous I become, because once I start kissing her, I’m not sure how I’m going to stop.
She waits for me, looking into my eyes, then glancing at my mouth. I think she might want this as much as I do, but I can’t see how.
I press my lips against hers, and it’s like we’ve done it a thousand times, although we only did it that one night weeks ago. Before I even know what’s happening, we’re stretched out on the couch, our arms and legs tangled up in each other. I don’t know how I’ve resisted this for
so long…or even why.
Her hair keeps getting in the way, and so I smooth it back and kiss her cheek and her neck, which is all new territory. I run my hands up her back, and even venture down to her ass, but I don’t go any further than that. I’m not afraid to, but I also know any of those guys down the hall could step back in here at any point, and I don’t want to compromise her like that.
Besides, this is enough for now. Feeling her pressed up against me, kissing her soft lips, catching her glance once in a while. I could lay like this with her for the rest of this weekend and it wouldn’t be long enough.
She runs her hands up through my hair, and I close my eyes from the sensation. I love it so much when she does that.
We don’t say anything else the rest of the night, which is so weird for us. We’re always talking, arguing, battling.
But not now. We’re just being here. We’ll pay for this tomorrow, but tonight, I don’t care.
Our kisses become slower and less full of energy. I have no idea how long we’ve been doing this. It could be ten minutes or ten hours as far as I know. I’m getting sleepy, and I can feel her tiring out, too. But I don’t want to quit, and she doesn’t seem to want to, either.
My body betrays me, as my eyes begin to close and I start drifting off, but our lips are still touching. I can’t pull away. I never want to pull away again.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jenna
I blink awake butt to butt with Jasmine. At first, I think I’ve had the most wonderful dream, and then I smile as I remember the real thing.
Miles kissed me last night, like eight thousand times. He was sweet, and yummy, and careful with me, and I felt like a princess floating on a cloud. I was trying so hard to stay so strong and not let myself get suckered back in with him, but the more we talked the more my heart opened to him and the cuter he got in those stupid glasses and then…
Greta comes in from the bathroom towel drying her hair.
“I didn’t even hear you get up,” I say.
“I just wanted to get ready.”
Jasmine rolls over on her stomach. “What time is it?”
I check my phone from the bedside table. “Nine thirty.”
Jasmine snuggles into her pillow. “Early.”
I sit up in the bed with my back against the frame and flip through my phone. I want to Facetime Chloe but I need privacy for that.
Jasmine flips her head so she’s facing me. “What time did you come to bed last night?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. After the movie.” Not a total lie.
“Mmm-hmm. That’s why when I woke up at three that spot you’re in was empty?”
I smile, still flipping through my phone. “I was in the bathroom.”
“You lie,” Jasmine says.
Greta sits down on the edge of the bed. “So you and Miles finally…” She lowers her chin, looking for the end of that sentence.
I shrug. “Nothing we hadn’t done before.”
Jasmine sits up. “You and Miles have been hooking up? I didn’t know that.”
“Just kissing once in a while,” I say.
Greta runs a brush through her hair, smiling. “So exciting. New love.”
Jasmine cuts her eyes at me. “I think we’re losing Greta.”
“Mmm-hmm.” I jump up out of bed. “I’m going to put out the breakfast stuff.”
Jasmine pulls the covers up over her legs. “I never knew you were so domesticated.”
I shrug with a smile and then pull my hair up away from my face. I head to the kitchen and get out the muffins and fruit, plates and glasses for the orange juice, and forks. I put a candle in one of the muffins and set it aside.
The water runs in the hall bathroom, and then the door opens and Miles comes around the corner sporting total bed head.
I giggle. “Hey.”
He tousles the hair on top of his head. “What?”
I light the candle and present him with the muffin. “Happy birthday. Make a wish.”
He raises one eyebrow and then blows on the candle.
“What’d you wish for?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Can’t tell.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Maybe I already know.”
He starts to lean in for a kiss, but I scoot away before he can, my pride winning out over my heart. I want to keep the upper hand. I can’t help but be cautious after what he did to me after we kissed at my parents’ apartment. This time feels different, but I’m not making any assumptions, and I’m not handing over my heart on a platter.
Nat comes out from the hallway, stretching. “Man, I slept like a baby last night.”
Greta follows behind him. “Speak for yourself. The squirrels didn’t even get to sleep last night because of your snoring.”
“I don’t snore,” he says.
Miles and I look at each other and chuckle.
“I don’t.” This time he says it with less conviction.
I zip up my hoodie. “I’m going to make a call. You all figure out what we’re going to do today.”
I close the front door and make my way down a trail to the lake. I find a spot far enough away from the house, so no one can hear me. I text Chloe to see if she can talk, and a few seconds later her image appears on my screen. She shuts the door to her bedroom. “Hey,” she says in a hushed tone.
“Is your mom nearby?” I ask.
“She’s still asleep. What’s going on? How’s the house?”
“Oh my god, Chloe, it’s amazing. The whole back wall is made of these huge windows, and there’s all these fancy kitchen utensils in the drawers and pictures of Miles and his family…one where they’re at the Eiffel Tower.”
“The real one, or the one in Paris, Tennessee?”
“No, the one in Paris, France.”
“So they’re like crazy rich,” she says.
“Totally.”
She huffs. “Then he needs to back out of that contest. He doesn’t need the money.”
I shake my head. “Don’t say that. It’s not like that. He’s having to pay for his own college. And besides, it’s more about the prestige of winning. Also, they bring in industry judges, so there’s opportunity there.”
She nods. “Okay, I’ll back off that.”
“Chlo-Jo, his mom is like my dream mom. She made all this food…homemade cookies and brownies and muffins. She made a lasagna for us with bread and everything. Can you imagine?”
“Kind of sounds like Cynthia. I can see her doing that, but not my mom.”
I put my hand to my chest. “Oh, how’s Cynthia? I need to text her.” I spent lots of time with Landon’s mom last summer, mainly trying to get out of Chloe’s and Landon’s hair. But I loved my time with her. She made me feel like a daughter…more so than my own mom does.
“She’s good.” She smiles at me. “So…what happened last night? I got your text but it was way cryptic. Sneaky. I’ve been dying over here.”
I sigh, putting my hand over my heart. Then I check to make sure nobody can hear me. “We kissed again.”
She puts her hand over her mouth, turns to check her door, and then whispers, “I knew it! What? How? Where?”
“On the couch. Everyone was asleep, and he was like, ‘I want to kiss you,’ and I was like, ‘Go ahead,’ and then we kissed for I swear an hour…possibly two. Chloe, we fell asleep kissing.”
She bobs up and down, her image all wonky. “Like with your lips pressed together? I can’t take it.”
“I know!”
We take a minute to giggle and wiggle about it all.
“So are you two like…together now?” she asks.
I frown. “I don’t know. I thought we were together after last time, and you know what happened there. I’m not making any assumptions. Guard firmly up.” I lower my chin. “I snuck away early this morning and got in bed with the girls.”
“You didn’t want to wake up with him? That’s the best part.”
I lean back against a big tr
ee. “I did, but I wanted that separation from him. I’m not letting him dictate this thing this time.”
She shrugs. “Sounds like you have it all under control then.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Sounds like it.”
“Well, I don’t need to tell you to be careful then. As long as your eye is remaining firmly on that prize, we’re all good here…right?”
“Right,” I say with way more conviction than I mean.
Chloe looks at her phone. “Oh crap. That’s my dad. He’s in town. He’ll be here to pick me up in a minute.”
“Okay. Have fun.”
She points at the screen. “Don’t forget to text Landon to have a good game.”
“Of course not, Mom.”
She smiles and then blows a kiss. I love that girl. That’s going to be the worst thing about moving to Nashville. Facetime is great, but I need my in-person time with her.
I pull up a text to Landon.
Me: Starting today?
Landon: Yep. What are you up to?
Me: At lake with friends.
Landon: Don’t fall in.
Me: Har har. Don’t embarrass your teammates today.
He texts me back a gif of Lucy pulling the football away from Charlie Brown.
Dork. I love him, too.
I make my final call of the morning to my dad the old-fashioned way. He’s not into Facetime…can’t seem to figure out how to work it no matter how many times I show him.
“Hey, Daddy,” I say.
“How is it? Everything okay?”
“Yep. All’s good,” I say.
“What’d you do last night?”
I give him all the details, just leaving out the gender of the people here.
“Sounds nice,” he says.
There’s something off about his voice. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, fine. Just starting the packing process.”
I hesitate. “Are you sure?”
“A hundred percent. Enjoy your weekend. These times will be gone before you know it.”
I smile. His looking back on the things he missed out on is to my benefit now. “Thanks, Dad. I need to get these things in before I leave for L.A. and am a full-time working girl.”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t give me something to be depressed about, okay?”
“Okay. I love you.”
Falling for Forever (Before Forever) Page 22
