Chapter 9 #2
Looking down at my phone, I note the time, doing the math in my head. “It’s already four fifteen. He’s helping Chet Farlow chaperone the seventh-grade environmental science camping trip until Saturday. They are rolling out at four thirty.”
“Then you better get moving,” Rose challenges.
“And what? Roll into the middle school parking lot, march on up to him, climb him like a tree, and plant one on him? In front of a group of thirteen-year-olds? And their parents?”
“I’d recommend skipping the climbing him like a tree part,” Emily comments. “Maybe ask if you can borrow him for a second, slip between the cars, tell him how much you’re going to miss him, and then plant one on him. But, yes.”
“Maybe throw in a there’s more of this when you get back,” Rose adds, waggling her eyebrows.
“You have to be kidding.” I glance around the table, all four of them staring back at me expectantly. They are not kidding.
“Welcome home, Maisey,” Dolly taunts.
Well…shit…
My insides tighten, the scene Emily described playing out in my mind, much like the one of us tumbling through his apartment did moments ago. Although this time, it’s not just longing that it comes with. It’s more. It’s pure desire. Pure excitement.
A bubble bursts inside me, releasing a feeling I can’t name.
It’s comforting, invigorating, and energizing, making me feel like I could burst into giggles and take over the world all at the same time.
I haven’t felt like this since…I don’t even know when.
A long damn time. It’s the feeling of being at home mixed with the thrill of a first love and the wonder of what will come next.
Only one way to find out.
Picking up my fork, I shove the last bite of pie into my mouth as I push back from the table, not bothering to say goodbye to my friends. I’m on a mission now. A very important mission.
Ewan and I promised that this time we would communicate. We would tell each other things. I meant that promise. That means telling him how I’m feeling and what I want. It means taking matters into my owns hands if necessary.
Or my own lips, as it may be.
I’m out the door of Oh, My Lard! and down the street before I can think.
I’m all muscle memory and autopilot as I make my way toward the middle school, simultaneously amped up and worried that I missed them.
My worry is tamped down by my brain trying to make a game plan—attempting to work out exactly what I’m going to say when I get there. When I see him.
Pulling into the parking lot, my heart leaps as I see the caravan of charter buses lined up on the far side of the lot, groups of students and parents still milling about.
Oh, thank goodness…
I throw the car into park and launch myself out of it, running across the pavement toward where Ewan is standing talking to Chet and some of the other chaperones.
“Ewan!”
He spins around, eyes going wide, breaking away from the group and rushing over to meet me.
“Maisey.”
He bends down to greet me, scooping me up in his arms and holding on tight as my feet leave the ground.
I bury my face in his neck, inhaling the deep, musky scent, letting myself get lost in him.
His lips press lightly against the curve of my neck, a chill rippling down my spine, and I know that I can’t hold back any longer.
“I’m so glad I caught you.”
“I didn’t realize I needed to be caught,” he jokes, setting me back down.
“You did,” I pant, taking half a step back, but not letting go of him.
“And what are you going to do with me now that you caught me?”
There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, as if he’s issuing me a challenge. One that I’m not only accepting, but am going to demolish.
“I’m going to kiss you.”
Fire flashes in Ewan’s eyes, and that’s all the signal I need.
Tightening my grip around his neck, I push to my toes, yanking him into me and pressing my mouth to his.
Instantly, everything hushes, except for the sound of my pulse rushing through my veins.
Ewan’s lips are soft and strong, letting me run the show, even though he’s more than capable of taking over at any point.
It’s an intoxicating feeling, knowing that I’m in control. One I can’t get enough of.
Or maybe that’s Ewan I can’t get enough of. The taste of him. The feel of him against me like this. Of him holding me this tightly, in public, declaring that he’s mine.
I try to deepen the kiss, seeking his tongue with mine, but I can’t get the right angle.
Whimpering, I try again, pushing up more on my toes, my lack of height proving to be an issue.
Ewan smiles, the curve of his lips as he continues to kiss me tickling mine, his hands moving into my hair.
Leaning down, he adjusts our angle, giving me the leverage I was looking for and taking this to a whole new level.
One that I will never recover from.
Off in the distance, a whistle blows, startling me. I pull back, the real world sneaking in, reminding me where we are. Who we’re around. And that we might want to behave.
“Fuuuuck, Maisey…”