Keep Me Still (16 page)

“Um.” She’s breathing harder, and the space between the two brick buildings is so tight her chest is pressing against mine.

“Tell me what you want,” I demand, pulling her two wrists into one of my hands. I lift them above her head so I can feel her body on mine without our hands in the way.

“I want…” She pauses to swallow, and I don’t know why I need her to ask for it…but I do. I need to know that this is what she wants. That I’m the one she wants. “I want to have fun, to stop worrying and feeling guilty all the time just for being alive.”

Okay, well that wasn’t exactly the response I was hoping for, but beggars can’t be choosers. “And how should we go about making that happen? Specifically,” I clarify, letting my lips rest just a few inches from hers. I can feel her breath on my mouth. “Tell me what I can do to help.”

Her little pink tongue swipes her lips, coming so close to my own I can practically taste her, and I nearly come undone right then and there. “You should kiss me.”

I move in closer, but only a tiny bit. “And why would I do that?”

Her voice is so low I have to lean in to hear her clearly. “Because you want to. Because I’ve been waiting for a very long time. Because you can.”

Her words fill me with heat and need. I want so much more than to kiss her. But I’m not going to get greedy here and risk losing her all over again. My plan to make her jealous earlier was just a ploy to get her to admit she still wants me because I still want her. I’m pretty positive I’ll always want her. So now this has to be the best damn kiss two people ever shared in the history of kissing because I need her to want it again and again.

Tension builds in my chest at the thought of finally kissing Layla Flaherty, and I’m a little afraid of screwing up her first kiss. But I owe it to her. It should’ve happened a long time ago.

“Someone’s overthinking things,” she whispers against my lips, and I twitch with anticipation and nostalgia.

It’s the exact phrase I used to use on her when she’d go off in her head. She remembers. Dammit, I’m losing control. I tighten my grip on her wrists and run my nose down her cheek. I place a soft kiss on her earlobe and feel her body sag forward as her legs buckle beneath her.

Using my other arm to hold her around the waist and keep her vertical, I whisper, “Here? Is this where you want me to kiss you?”

Her breath comes in quick gasps, and she shakes her head no. So I let my lips skim the side of her face and holy hell, she even tastes like peaches. And I should definitely not be thinking about tasting her, but a torrent of images unleashes itself. I know I’m gripping her too hard, but she doesn’t complain.

I press myself against her and place a chaste kiss on her cheek. “Here?” I ask, doing my best to feign innocence.

“Uh uh,” she groans, and I brush my face against hers until our lips are touching.

“Here?”

“Yes, please,” she says against my mouth, and I try to take it slow, I really do. But when her lips part, opening her to me, I’m done being gentle.

My tongue sweeps inside, desperate for hers. She’s tentative at first. Barely skimming her own tongue against mine with sweet little licks. But I press harder and she matches me. Layla lets her teeth graze my lower lip and I groan. I can’t even concentrate on memorizing each sweet touch of her perfect mouth because the knowledge that I’m the first, the only man to ever have her this way, has me mindless and infuckingsane with need. She’s mine goddammit, and the primal urge to shout it from the rooftops is almost impossible to resist. I release her wrists so I don’t bruise or break them and she wraps her arms around my neck, raking her hands into my hair. Keeping my hand out from under her short dress is an exercise in torture. My body aches for release, but this is her first kiss, for fuck’s sake. We have to stop here. For now.

“You did not just give her the very first kiss of her life in an alley,” Corin’s voice rings out from beside us. “Although, it looked pretty hot, so I might allow it.”

Growling low enough so only Layla can hear, I pull my mouth from hers, taking a moment to appreciate her flushed face and swollen lips. Her eyes are glazed over, and I’m hoping it’s a result of my lip-locking skills and not the alcohol. I drop one more kiss on her pouty lips, unable to resist, before turning to face her roommate. “Jesus, Ginger. You have fan-fucking-tastic timing. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Anyone ever tell you the definition of romance? Here’s a hint. It doesn’t include dirty alleys downtown. And for the record, the last guy who called me Ginger hasn’t been seen or heard from in months.” Her deadpan tone makes me wonder if she’s serious.

Skylar appears behind her, and they both look hot and tired and ready to go. Judging from my roommate’s rumpled clothing, he’s been doing some intense grinding of his own. I smirk and pull Layla from the alley.
Our alley
. Deal with it, Ginger. And even better? Layla doesn’t let go of my hand on the cab ride back to the dorm.

So for tonight at least, I’m the luckiest bastard alive.

~
PRESENT TENSE
: Used to locate a situation or event in present time. Or a tense situation you thought you had put behind you that turns out to be much more current than you realized.~

I
t’s
all I can do not to pull Landen from the cab and drag him back to my dorm room. The magic of tonight is already fading and the thought of losing him again has me on edge. If I ever start to forget that he can disappear at a moment’s notice, I touch the scar above my left ear to remind myself. It’s my permanent reality check. The one I need to remind me of the truth. Everything can change. Everyone can leave.

Corin was right. Kissing Landen, being kissed by Landen, changed me. The tension I’ve clung to for so long it became a part of me just lifted into the sky, and I didn’t care if I never pulled in another breath for as long as I lived. The world spun faster, and I think I left the ground for a few seconds while Landen explored my mouth. My whole body trembled, but not in the terrifying way like I’m used to. More like humming with the steady buzz of being alive.

Why do people need to do drugs when kissing feels like this?

“Hey, about what Ginger said,” Landen begins as he walks me to the front door of Campbell Hall. “She’s right. That probably wasn’t the best place I could have done that. I should have—”

“Landen,” I break in, placing a finger on his lips to stop the rest of his sentence. “It was perfect.”

He swallows and nods at me but I can tell there’s something else he wants to say. Dread settles over me, effectively cutting off my endorphin overload.

“Hey, um, Corin and Skylar seem to be hitting it off.” I’m trying to change the subject to dispel the awkwardness that’s shoved its way in between us. Landen clears his throat and glances over to where I’m looking. Corin is standing with her arms folded, watching Skylar tell her something that apparently requires a lot of frantic gesturing with his hands. “Wonder what that’s all about.”

“He thought he was going to get lucky tonight,” Landen says with a smirk. He pulls his gaze from our roommates back to me and grins wickedly. “Guess we’re both going home disappointed.”

He’s joking, Layla
. Right, I know that. But he probably is disappointed. I’d never kissed a guy before. It wasn’t as if I knew what the hell I was doing. And if he’d hooked up with any other girl tonight instead of wasting his time on me, he’d probably be getting a lot more than a goodnight hug.
But he didn’t
.

I pull myself out from inside of my head and take a moment to appreciate how beautiful he is. Not that I haven’t memorized his face and then subsequently tried to forget it once already. But as I let my eyes cling to every inch of him, drinking in his full mouth and square jaw before covering his thick, muscular neck, he stills, almost like he’s doing the same thing to me. Thoughts I have no clue how to deal with intertwine in my mind.
What would it be like to run my tongue over the masculine knot in his throat? To feel his stubbled jaw on my neck, on my bare breasts? In between my thighs?

“Good Lord,” I whisper at my thoughts, barely stifling a shiver.

“Kissing me is similar to a religious experience, or so I’ve been told.” Gleaming green eyes meet mine as he teases me.

“I was just realizing how…”
Much I want you to kiss me again
. “Late it is.”

“Yeah.” He groans and the throaty depth of it touches me all the way to my core. “And we have practice tomorrow and workouts tomorrow night. And because they obviously hate freshmen here, we have that ass early class Monday morning.”

Oh yeah, Intro to University Academics or something. Ugh, I’d forgotten. “Corin and I will probably take turns going to that one. We can always share notes if you, um, need to sleep in sometimes, because of soccer or whatever.”

“Yeah, the hangovers and late night orgies with cheerleaders will probably take their toll and I’ll end up failing Intro to Not Screwing Up College.”

My eyes narrow at his words because it’s been nearly a year since I knew him and I can’t tell if he’s serious. But then the corner of his mouth turns up and I have an overwhelming impulse to slap him. “Cute. Well, maybe while you’re busy with your cheerleaders, I’ll see if Luke feels like hanging out.”

Now it’s Landen’s eyes that narrow and I’m the one grinning. “I think you’re underestimating how much Lucas Taite values the use of his legs.”

“And I think you’re underestimating what a good kisser I am.” I lift my chin in defiance, daring him to argue. I was going for playful, but his glare is lethal. “Maybe he’d risk it.”

“I’ve never underestimated anything about you, Layla. No reason I would start now that I know from experience.” His fierce tone weakens my knees and tightens the muscles in my stomach. “And I’m sure as hell not sharing.”

“I was just kidding,” I say softly, hoping he’ll return to his smiling, eye-twinkling self.

He’s still staring at me intently, but he looks less ready to murder someone. “Me too, babe,” he says lightly, prompting me to release the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. “Cheerleaders have never been my thing. I prefer girls on the gymnastics team—much more flexible.”

Now that he’s calmed down a notch, I smack him in the chest. But he catches my wrist and uses it to pull me into the danger zone where I am his to do what he wants with. Landen and my lungs are not friends. This close to him they deflate and I’m gasping for breath in a pathetic attempt to refill them. I’m about to curse myself for being so weak until my eyes find his. He’s just as lost as I am. We don’t know how to do this with each other. We didn’t get this far before. High school was a slow burn, a lit fuse taking its sweet time. This time we’ve hung out once and we’re already sorting through the debris from the explosion. We’re standing over that gaping canyon again. This time it’s Landen who jumps first.

“None of them even rate compared to you.”

Relief floods me, and I couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across my face if I tried. “I don’t even have anyone to compare you to.”

“Guess I’ve cornered the market where kissing is concerned, huh?”

“Something like that.” Kissing and everything else.

“You kids about done here?” Corin says, pulling me from Landen-land.

Landen sighs. “Seriously, Ginger, your timing is impeccable. Can I get you a collar with bells or something so I can hear you coming next time?”

“Behave yourself,” I whisper, but I can’t help but grin.

He lets me step back, and I feel the effort it takes. His expression relaxes visibly, and I wonder if maybe letting me go is easier. Letting him go would definitely be easier. Smarter. Cut and run before one or both of us gets hurt. But I really don’t want to. Because I am a fool of the lowest form, one who repeats the same mistakes. With a smile on her face.

I
give Ginger all sorts of hell about interrupting us, but honestly, I’m only mildly pissed and mostly grateful. Because Layla has the power to crack me open and leave me bloody on the sidewalk. This close to her, my thoughts hang out way too close to my lips.

“So we have an inter-squad scrimmage Tuesday night if you ladies want to come,” Skylar tells the girls as we drop them at the door.

“We’ll see,” Ginger says, playing coy. I raise a brow to smirk at my roommate, hoping to convey my thoughts to him.
So much for getting lucky
.
I feel ya, buddy
.

“Hey,” I say, pulling Layla a few feet from the other two. “Ginger was right about one thing. I owe you some romance. Milkshakes after the game Tuesday night?”

Her delicate lips, still swollen from my kiss, work so hard not to curve into one of her breathtaking grins.
Say yes
. “We’ll see,” she murmurs, following her roommate’s lead.

So she wants to play hard to get? That’s fine. I can chase her as hard as she wants. Leaning down, I whisper into her ear, “Extra cherries if you’re a good girl.”

There’s no containing the shiver that pulls her body closer to me. “Hmm, what does being a good girl entail exactly?”

“Cheering loudly for me and not at all for anyone else.” Especially Lucas motherfucking Taite.

“I think I can manage that. What about Skylar? Can I cheer for Skylar?”

Laughing, I nod. “Yeah, he’s the goalie. But I think he’s already landed his own personal cheerleader.” Layla follows my gaze to my roommate—who is getting a lingering hug from hers.

“This door’s locked after hours,” Ginger tells us, breaking from Skylar and heading our way. “We have to go in the side entrance. Layla, do you have your card with you?”

“Yeah,” Layla answers, and we head around to the side of their building. I don’t really like how isolated it is, and I make a mental note to make sure she always gets back in time to use the main entrance if I’m not with her. Or maybe I can just make sure I’m always with her. Yeah, I like that idea better.

Just as I pick up my jaw from the ground after watching Layla fish her student ID access card from her bra—which is pale pink, by the way—a group of guys slamming out of the metal door make her efforts unnecessary. Fuck, I didn’t realize she was in a co-ed dorm.

Instinctively, I press myself to her, wrapping my arms around her. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” I start murmuring directly into her ear. But she’s not trembling. Not even a little. And all three of them are looking at me like I’m nuts. Looking down, I can tell, even in the dark, how red her face is. And I’m confused. “Are you okay? You didn’t—”

“I’m fine,” she says sharply, extracting herself swiftly from my grasp. “They didn’t even run into me.”

Run into her? Damn right they didn’t or they’d be flat on their asses. I’m flipping my shit like a little girl because the ear-shattering clang of that door should’ve sent her straight to the ground. But it didn’t. Is she cured? What else have I missed?

I stare at her, waiting for an explanation, but she just nods towards our roommates. Oh, she doesn’t want them to know. Dumb jock finally gets it. But she and Ginger
live
together. And Ginger knew exactly who I was at that party. So she told her about me, but not about the seizures? I’d be flattered if I wasn’t so pissed.

“Layla,” I say, wrapping my fingers around her upper arm. “You need to tell your roommate about—”

“No.” She presses her lips together tightly and shoots me a death glare. “Goodnight, Landen.”

I have officially made it weird. But I don’t care. Even if she is better, Ginger needs to know in case Layla has a random relapse or something. I know from experience—that’s some shit a person needs to be prepared for. Or warned about at least. “Layla,” I demand, and now the girls are glaring at me like I’m Asshole of the Year. Skylar pulls my arm away from Layla and presses his weight against me, forcing me to take a step back. “You have to tell her.”

Layla lifts her chin, her eyes flashing at me. “I don’t
have
to do anything.
Goodnight
,
Landen
. Skylar.”

“Go home, soccer boys,” Ginger says, winking at Skylar and shooting an annoyed look at me.

“She has to tell her,” I say to the air once they’ve gone.

“Tell her what, dude? You sure know how to kill the mood, by the way,” my roommate informs me. No kidding. “What’s your fucking deal?”

I force my body to relax, even though I’m still in fight mode. “Yeah, you weren’t getting any tonight anyways.”

“Not with you cock-blocking all over the place with your little freak out. They might’ve invited us in if you hadn’t lost your mind back there. What’s your problem?”

I should tell him. So he can tell Ginger. Shit, Corin. Her name is Corin. I have to stop messing with her because I need her on my side when it comes to Layla. But it’s not my secret to tell. I can’t betray her like that. Even if it is for her own good, which it is. “Um, Layla has a condition. Not one I’m at liberty to discuss. But her roommate should know.”

“Ah.” He sags against the wall. “You want me to say something to her?”

“I don’t know.” I kick a rock off the path as I start walking across campus to our dorm. Of course Layla’s dorm would be as far from mine as possible. She’s always made me work for it.

Skylar follows me. “Okay, well, what
do
you know?”

“That I probably just pissed her off.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a definite possibility. Think they’ll come Tuesday?” Skylar snorts at his own comment. “I mean, Corin’s definitely going to
come
Tuesday.”

“Oh yeah? Because your
hugs
induce mind-blowing orgasms or what?”

Skylar shoulder-butts me. Hard. “Hey, man. Don’t underestimate a guy who doesn’t make a move right away. Girls like for you to play hard to get, hold out on them until they’re begging for it.”

Yeah right. Or you screw it up and miss your chance altogether. Been there, done that.