Chapter 2 Luca #2
That’s what I’m thinking as I walk down the sidewalk with her toward our hotel, hand in hand, through the cold night air.
Why? Because our ice cream date went so well, I’m now idiotically trying to come up with a way to see this spectacular girl again.
Unfortunately, due to my crazy football schedule and the distance between our two schools, the best idea I’ve come up with is inviting Chelsea to come to my game against Northwestern in a few weeks so we can hang out afterward at my hotel, the same way we’re doing here.
“So, Chelsea,” I begin. But before I get another word out, a couple of my teammates sprint through the front doors of our hotel about twenty yards ahead of us, as fast as their legs can carry them.
“Oh, shit,” I mutter. I look down at my watch and realize how badly I’ve lost track of time. “There’s only three minutes till curfew.”
Chelsea gasps. “Let’s run.”
Still holding hands, we sprint the rest of the distance and bolt into the lobby right after several teammates who came from the opposite direction.
“Maguire, come on!” one of my teammates yells from the packed elevator. “I’m holding the doors!”
“Coming!”
“Your jacket, Luca!” Chelsea shrieks.
“Keep it. I have to go now, so I’m in my room at checks, but I don’t want to say goodbye to you like this.”
“Maguire!”
“Come to my room for a proper goodbye in thirty minutes, okay? Please?”
“Maguire!”
“Just to say goodbye,” I assure her, since Chelsea suddenly looks a bit shell-shocked. “I just don’t want this magical night to end abruptly like this.”
Chelsea looks at the elevator and then back to me, her cheeks blooming and her bright blue eyes on fire. “Okay. Now go, Luca.”
“Thirty minutes!” As I sprint toward the elevator—it’s noticeably beeping angrily by now—I shout my room number at Chelsea and instruct her to knock three times.
And as the elevator doors close in front of me, I flash Chelsea one final smile and say a little prayer she’ll not only come to my room, as promised, but maybe even give me a goodnight kiss while she’s there, as well.
“Thanks for coming,” I whisper as I pull Chelsea into my dimly lit hotel room. She’s dressed in a T-shirt and leggings. Her makeup is gone. I’m hoping her dressed-down appearance means she’s planning to get comfortable and stay a while. At least longer than it takes to say a quick goodbye.
“Hi,” she whispers softly. “Oh. Here.” She hands me my jacket, and I toss it onto a nearby chair.
“They already came for room checks,” I report. “Nobody will be coming again till morning. Not that I’m expecting you to stay till then, of course. I’m just saying we’re good for however long you want to stay.”
Her gaze drifts to the second unmade bed in the small room.
“He’s not coming back till morning,” I say with a jerk of my chin. “After checks, he sneaked out to meet someone.”
Chelsea’s eyes widen, and I suddenly realize how badly I’m messing up.
I truly invited her here only to say goodbye, if that’s all she wants to do.
I mean, yes, I’d also love for her to stick around and do something more than just talking.
But I swear I’d take merely talking to her, the same way we did at the ice cream place, if it meant being near her for however long she’ll give me.
I blurt, “I know you said you had to get to bed early, but—”
“No, no. I’m good. Forget I said that.” She wrings her hands. “I’m glad to be here. And glad we’re alone. I’m just a little bit nervous, if I’m being honest. But excited, too.”
I swallow hard. “You’re nervous about … me?”
“No. About, you know … what might happen while we’re here together. Alone.” Her eyes drift to my bed, and her meaning is clear enough. Holy shit.
My heart hammering, I motion toward my neatly made bed. “Do you want to sit, or …?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I can sit on the floor, if you want.”
She shakes her head. “Sit with me.”
Holy fucking shit.
We head to the bed and sit on the edge, shoulder to shoulder.
And the second we’re there, I can’t help feeling like Chelsea’s nonverbally screaming at me to kiss her.
I wait a beat to make sure I’m not imagining it.
And when I’m sure that’s what her body language is shouting at me, I whisper, “Can I kiss you, Chelsea?”
“Yes, please.”
My heart thrumming, I lean in and gently peck Chelsea’s soft lips, just to get a read on her.
And when she slides her hand to the back of my neck, I open her lips gently with mine, slide my tongue into her mouth, and deepen the kiss.
All of a sudden, it’s like I can physically feel her pulse quickening—like I can hear every inhale and exhale that betrays her rising temperature and soaring heartbeat.
Feeling electrified, I slide my fingers into Chelsea’s thick, dark hair, and in a flash, our kiss becomes passionate, like every cell in my body has turned into infinite, tiny bombs exploding inside me.
“Okay if we lie down?” I ask hoarsely.
“With our clothes on,” she chokes out.
“Whatever you want.”
Quaking with excitement, I guide Chelsea onto to her side on the bed and resume kissing her, this time while running my hand up and down her back.
“I’ve never done this before,” Chelsea murmurs into my lips. “Go super slow, okay?”
My breathing halts. I don’t know what she meant by “this.” Did she mean kissing or wherever she thinks this is heading?
Either way, I feel honored to be her first for anything and everything she wants to do.
I nuzzle my nose against hers and look into her big blue eyes.
“We’ll go as slow as you want, and we’ll stop whenever you want. ”
Chelsea exhales and nods. “Just go ridiculously slow, in terms of where you put your hands and stuff like that, so I can process each new thing before you do something else.” She lets out a shaky breath and whispers, “This is really exciting for me. I might squeak or squeal. Sorry if that’s weird.”
My smile is even bigger than my boner. And that’s saying a lot. “Not weird at all. I might get kinda noisy myself. This is pretty exciting for me, too.”
Chelsea gasps. “You’ve never done this before, either?”
I bite back a smile. “I just mean it’s exciting to get to do it with you.”