Zara #3
“Aw,” I coo instead, dropping into a crouch in front of Samson to scratch under his chin. “But he’s so cute. He was hungry, Cass.”
Cass gapes at me, almost offended. “I was hungry too.”
I straighten and sidle up next to him, popping my own snack open—the one I paid for while Samson was committing a crime. I grab a chip, then gently nudge it against Cass’ lips.
“We can share mine,” I offer. “I like to feed the hungry.”
He stares at me, then at the bag of chips, then finally gives in and lets me push it into his mouth.
“You’re ridiculous,” he mutters around the bite.
“Eat the chip anyway,” I counter with a smirk as I shove another one to his lips.
Samson’s owner apologizes three more times before dragging him off, beef stick still rustling in his jaws. We watch them go with Cass shaking his head.
“I got mugged by a dog. This date is cursed.”
I lean into his side as we start walking again. “Nah. This date is us.”
His hand slips into mine again. Fingers lacing, thumb finding that familiar spot on my skin.
By the time we’re rolling back toward the dorms, the campus is quieter. A few groups of people here and there, laughing on benches, clustered in the grass. The air’s cooler now, sinking into my lungs and making me feel awake.
We slow our boards near my building, and Cass tries the hardflip again because apparently almost eating his skateboard once wasn’t enough for the evening.
This time, the board snaps under him instead of up at his chin.
He catches it clean, rolls it out, and looks way too pleased with himself for someone who barely survived round one.
Yay. Progress.
He walks me to the entrance like some kind of gentleman. His hoodie sleeves are pushed up, hands shoved in his pockets. His shoulder keeps brushing my arm lightly.
The closer we get to the door, the more my nerves start doing weird things. We’ve spent a thousand nights together in a thousand different ways, but this feels different. We’re coming back from a date. A real one. The kind where people say goodnight under porch lights and the camera fades out.
We stop under the dorm entrance awning. The yellowish bulb above us casts everything in a weird glow. I look up at him, and for a second, everything in the world goes very quiet.
“So,” I say, because my brain has decided to bail. “That was...”
“Disastrous?” he offers, mouth curving.
“Disastrously perfect,” I correct.
He huffs a little laugh, looking down at our hands. He lifts mine, tracing one of my rings with his thumb.
“I’m sorry about the roof,” he says, voice soft. “And about almost breaking my own jaw. And about the dog.”
“That was my favorite part,” I tell him.
“Me getting robbed by a Great Dane?”
“You getting flustered about it,” I correct, turning to look at him with a big smile on my face. “It’s cute.”
His eyes flick up to mine, dark and warm, as his hand slides from my fingers to my waist, tugging me a little closer.
“I had a really good time with you.” There’s none of his usual joking in it. It lands simple and sincere between us. “Even with all the… everything.”
“Me too.”
We stand there, stupidly close, not touching nearly as much as my body wants us to. My heart thuds against my ribs, and I’m suddenly hyper-aware of everything—his breath on my face, the way his fingers flex at my hip, the slight tilt of his head.
He hesitates for half a second, like he’s giving me a chance to bolt. But like hell I would. So he kisses me.
It starts soft. His mouth brushes mine, testing, and I respond by rising on my toes, pressing closer, and kissing him back.
He exhales against my lips, hand sliding up my back to the base of my neck. The angle shifts; the kiss deepens, going from sweet to something else. My fingers curl in the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer. He makes a low sound in his throat that sends a shiver down my spine.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing a little harder.
His forehead rests against mine. “Come to my dorm.”
“Pushy,” I tease, even as my fingers are still fisted in his hoodie.
“Just want to keep kissing you where no one else will be. Roommate is gone for the weekend,” he mutters.
Honestly, his roommate doesn’t exist. There’s no way.
I haven’t seen or heard from his roommate once. And I’ve been in his room a lot.
What the fuck does that guy do? Does he ever sleep?
I laugh, and Cass steals another quick kiss like he can’t help it. He starts walking backward toward his building entrance, tugging me along by our joined hands. I let him drag me, heart knocking around my chest.
By the time we make it inside his dorm, his mouth is on mine again, both of us laughing between kisses as he fumbles with his keys.
He finally gets the door open and pulls me into his room, closing it with his foot without leaving my lips.
As my back hits the inside of the door and his hands settle on either side of my head, one stupidly clear thought cuts through all the fizzy noise in my brain:
If this is what a disastrous first date looks like, I’ll happily let our whole lives be a mess.