Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Kiss - Grace
Wyatt crushes his mouth against mine, his lips demanding.
I open for him, and his tongue sweeps inside my mouth urgently.
His kiss is hot. Wet. Desperate. I hear a deep moan escape his throat, and my whole body responds with a shiver to the sexy sound.
I move my hands to his hair, sinking my fingers into his silky locks as his hands move around my back, drawing me closer as my heart pounds wildly against my ribs.
Then, to my surprise, he glides his hands down my back, then under my butt, and lifts me up, pinning me to the driver’s side door as I instinctively wrap my legs around him.
I’m lost to him right now. My mouth is in a fierce war with his. I’m greedy, and so is he. I want to kiss him for hours. I love being wrapped around him. I love the way his mouth is moving against mine as if he needs my kiss to even breathe.
“Christ, Gracie,” he groans against my lips. “You taste so damn good.”
Then he kisses me again, his body hard against mine as his lips and tongue continue dueling with mine in this wild, desperate, wonderful way.
I keep my hands in his hair, kissing him back with everything I’m feeling.
There’s a fluttering sensation low in my belly.
Wyatt’s facial scruff is rough against my skin.
I can smell him, the scent of his cologne and soap from the shower, and I’m getting drunk on it.
On him.
He presses against me again, his hips against mine, and I can feel he’s hard. My body responds by growing tighter. But then it hits me.
Wyatt usually hooks up with girls. He might think this kiss will lead to sex.
I immediately break the kiss, breathing hard. Wyatt drops his forehead to mine, his chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath.
I swallow. I have to tell him the truth. Wyatt has to know what he’s getting into with me. Because even though he thinks he wants to be my boyfriend, he might not want that once he learns I’m not experienced.
Or going to jump into sex straightaway.
“Wy,” I breathe, playing with his hair, “I have to tell you something.”
“Yeah?”
“I—I’m a virgin,” I whisper.
The words hang in the air between us, and I feel sick and nervous at the same time. Wyatt lifts his head, staring down at me in surprise. “What did you say?” he asks, his eyes searching mine.
My face burns hot. “I’m a virgin. I’m not waiting for marriage or anything, but I was waiting for the right guy. I—I thought you should know that. You might have expectations I’m unable to meet right away.”
Wyatt’s face grows thoughtful as he takes in this information. I wait for him to set me down, to tell me this isn’t what he was expecting. I try to ignore the panic rising within me.
This kiss could be all we ever share together. And that thought makes me want to cry.
“So you’ve never had sex?”
I shake my head. “No.”
Wyatt is very quiet for a moment. I bite my lip as my heart bangs nervously against my ribs.
His lips find mine again, but this time the kiss is slow. Sweet. Deliberate. Wyatt is kissing me goodbye, I think.
He breaks the kiss, and then he brushes his nose against mine. “I’ve never done this before. Nuzzled a girl on the nose,” he murmurs softly. “I’ve never kissed a girl on the top of the head or on the forehead, either.”
He lifts his head again, and I search his face, desperate to understand him.
“I guess we both will have some firsts together,” he says, placing another soft kiss on my lips.
I break the kiss, moving my hands to his face. “You aren’t going to tell me goodbye?”
Now Wyatt looks startled. “Goodbye? Gracie, I just told you I wanted to be your boyfriend.”
“I know, but that was before you knew I hadn’t had sex.”
“Gracie. Am I surprised? Yeah, I am. You’re hot and a sophomore in college. I just assumed you’d had sex before. Does it change what I want? No, absolutely not.”
Relief. Pure relief washes over me, and I rest my forehead against his shoulder. “Thank God.”
I feel his lips in my hair, and I melt from the sensation of his sweet kiss. I lift my head and look back at him. Wyatt untangles me from him, setting me back down, but immediately takes both my hands in his, linking our fingers together. He squeezes my hands in his, and I return the gesture.
“We’ll do whatever you feel comfortable doing,” Wyatt says.
“I’m not here for a hookup. I’m here because I want to be with you.
This is new for me, too. I’ve never wanted a girlfriend.
I’ve been discouraged from even entertaining the idea.
But when I’m with you? It’s all I want. I think about you all the time.
I’m happy when I’m with you. I like when you’re next to me, and I hate when I have to leave you.
So really, the question is more for you.
Are you brave enough to take me on, with no idea how to be a boyfriend, knowing my history? Because I’m fucking inexperienced.”
I remove my hands from his and slide them up his neck. “I like what you said. About us having firsts together. I’m your first girlfriend.”
He grins at me, and his smile lights me up inside. “The very first.”
“And you’re my first boyfriend.”
“I am?”
I nod. “I’ve dated. But I’ve never wanted to call anyone my boyfriend until I met you.”
Wyatt dips his head lower. “I like you, Grace Walsh,” he says, his words brushing over my lips in a heated whisper. “I like you a lot.”
“I like you, too, Wyatt Jacobs,” I murmur back.
Then he kisses me again and I feel light. Floaty. Deliriously happy.
“Wanna go back to my house?” he asks.
I drape my hands over his shoulders, feeling the strong, sculpted muscle underneath the fabric of his T-shirt, and look up at him. “What do you want to do at your house?” I ask.
That crooked smile begins to tug at the corner of his mouth. “Make out.”
I start to laugh, and now that full smile appears on his face.
“Kidding. We can hang out. Watch TV, play a video game, talk. Whatever. I just want to be with you, Gracie.”
A-plus, A-plus, A-plus.
“I’d like that,” I say, smiling up at him. “Do you want me to follow you back to your place? Then I can drive myself home later.”
“No. I’ll follow you back to Phi Mu Phi, then I’ll take you to my place, and I’ll drive you home later.”
I furrow my brow. “That’s a lot of extra driving for you.”
“No. It’s a boyfriend taking care of his girlfriend.”
I can’t stop smiling. I’m so going to fall in love with this boy.
“Okay,” I say.
“Allow me,” Wyatt says, opening my door. I get into my SUV, and he leans against the open car door for a moment. “See you in a few.”
He closes the door for me, and it takes all my restraint not to squeal in excitement. I start my car, and as I drive back toward the sorority house, I brush my fingertips over my lips. Wyatt kissed me.
WYATT JACOBS KISSED ME!
Oh my God, I want to scream it from the rooftops, I’m so happy.
I make it back to the sorority house and park my car. Wyatt pulls up behind me, and I get out. Wyatt also gets out of his Jeep, going around to the passenger side to once again open the door for me.
“Wy,” I say, smiling at him, “you don’t need to open every door for me.”
“I don’t have to. I want to.”
“Well, thank you.” I get in and Wyatt shuts the door. He goes around to the driver’s side and gets behind the wheel. He reaches for my hand, laces his fingers through mine, and puts it on his large, muscular thigh as he drives.
Butterflies are going like crazy in my stomach. I still can’t believe Wyatt is holding my hand for real.
“Oh, I need to snap Maddie,” I say, releasing his hand and picking up my purse. “Just to let her know I’ll be home later.”
He nods, and I quickly type out a message that I’m going to spend some time at Wyatt’s tonight before going home. I send it and then drop my phone back in my bag. Wyatt reaches for my hand again, and my heart flutters happily.
“I don’t know how many of the guys will be around the house tonight,” he says.
Wyatt makes a left turn and drives down another street, and I remember where he’s going from the night he stopped by his house before we went to the cove.
He lives mere blocks away from Greek Row.
He turns on his street, a cul-de-sac. It’s elevated on the circular end, and he pulls in front of a white house with a red-tiled roof, set up on an incline above street level.
He parks the car and we both get out. The temperature is dropping now, and I can see the moon shining over the tops of the tall palm trees that line the street.
“This is a nice house,” I say, looking up at it.
“Sebastian’s parents own it. His mom flips houses for a hobby. I mean, it’s not as nice as a sorority house with maid service and filet-mignon nights, but we make do.”
I playfully push him away from me, but he comes right back and extends his hand out to me, his fingers waggling. That’s his signal. That’s what Wyatt does when he wants my hand in his.
I put my hand in his, loving how our fingers perfectly entwine together.
Wyatt leads me up the sidewalk to the front door.
He pulls his keys out of his pocket and slips one into the lock.
When we step inside, I immediately take in our surroundings.
I wasn’t sure what to expect with four hockey players living in a house, but it’s surprisingly clean.
I notice how bright and airy the home is, very modern and open, and it’s obvious it’s been updated recently.
There’s a large TV on the wall, and some old hockey game is on.
Wyatt leads me back into the kitchen and living area. Nolan is sprawled out on one of the sofas, a laptop perched on top of his thighs, a backward baseball cap covering his dark hair.
Wyatt pauses to take his phone out of his pocket and sets it on the kitchen island with his keys. I put my purse next to them.
“Hey, Grace, welcome,” Nolan calls out cheerfully.