25. Konnor #5
“What are you doing outside all alone?”
“Getting drunk. You?”
She bats her long lashes and coos, “Looking for someone to get drunk with.”
I’m so drunk.
I’m so horny.
But… Blesk.
I straighten, say nothing, and head back inside. The music crashes into my ears, the lights are fucking blinding, but I swear they weren’t before. Someone grabs my elbow, but I don’t slow down.
I spot Blesk by the far wall, chatting with Jax. She sees me, and her smile drops into shock. I blink. Suddenly her arm is around mine, and we’re stumbling back out the door.
Cool air hits me and my stomach churns. We slump onto the front steps, the party rages behind us, people flitter around us.
She sets her hand on my thigh. “You okay?”
I lean forward onto my knees. “That snuck up on me.”
“It didn’t.” She rubs small circles on my leg. “You’ve been drinking really fast.”
I rub my eyes until I see white. “I keep thinking about his hands... and yours. Together. Then his mouth... and yours.” I groan. “Fuck, I hate him.”
“I’ve kissed boys, Konnor. I’m an adult.”
“How many boys?” I comb my fingers through my hair before looking at her. “Hit me with the digit.”
I don’t want to know...
Yes, I do. No, I don’t.
She sighs, her warm breath pluming the crisp air. “Um…” She thinks. “Six.”
“Six dead fuckers.”
She giggles.
“Six, but not me.”
Silence settles between us as I lose focus on the pavement, shuffling the loose pieces of gravel with my sneakers.
I’m glad I can’t see her face right now, because she’s probably disappointed.
If I see even a glimpse of hurt in her eyes because of me, I'll rip my head off.
And I need my head. Despite my lack of knowing how to use it sometimes.
I look across at her. “I’m sorry.” I’m sorry for not being cooler, calmer, more collected. That’s not me.
Her lips curve into a slow smile as she asks, “Do you want to kiss me, Konnor?”
I hold my breath, then let it rush out. “God, yes.”
Leaning in, her breath feathers my lips, and the scent of her perfume, daisies, floods my senses—I don’t question how I know that it’s daisies and not another flower. “Like this?” she whispers. “Now? On these steps?”
I sit up, slide a hand to the nape of her neck, and guide her until our lips hover together, gently teasing. She gasps. My cock twitches. Our lips brush again, soft flutters of breath cascading between us. She waits.
I want to kiss her, hard.
But will I remember it?
Fuck.
Fingers entwined, I pull back, and she exhales hard. Standing, I steady us both, swaying slightly. She catches my waist and laughs. “Even drunk, you’re bossy.”
We stumble, jog, stagger, across the field opposite the hall. Cold air bites at me, so I shrug off my jacket and wrap it around her bare shoulders. Then I collapse onto the grass with a loud sigh and pull her down beside me.
She leans in.
It’s so easy.
And hard.
Somehow…
“I’m not used to feeling jealous,” I admit, trying to explain that shitty behaviour. “If a girl doesn’t want me, I move on.” I flash a smirk. “Not that it’s ever happened.”
She giggles at the sky. “So modest, but I believe you. I’m jealous, too. If it helps.”
“It helps.” I don’t believe her, but it helps.
Above us, stars glitter in a black suede dome. Our breath mingles in the crisp air, two exhales drawn together, and the scent of freshly cut grass surrounds us. Aside from a dull thrum from the hall, there’s only the sound of our breathing.
Her hair is pinned neatly above her head, a few strands escaping to frame her face. When she turns to me, her eyes are hooded… maybe she’s tipsy, too? I hope so. At least she’s having some fun.
I’m glad I didn’t press that first kiss. I don’t want our first kiss to be when we’re drunk, just after talking about Max fucking Butcher and all the other mouths and hands that have touched her.
My gaze travels over her throat and collarbone. Goosebumps race across her skin. I ache to memorize every curve and divot.
Rolling onto my side, I lift my hand to her chin, then trace a pulse in her neck down to the hollow of her collarbone, sketching her into my memory forever.
She swallows.
I want to slip my hand inside her dress, to feel her nipples tighten in my palm, but it’s too soon, for so many reasons. Erik. Max. Alcohol. Too many reasons not to, and one reason to which is that I want her so fucking bad…
I pull back, smile at her.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice genuinely my favourite sound. “For today. It was… perfect.”
“I want every day to be perfect for you.”
Her lips quirk. “There was one thing left on our list.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“To scream.”
I grin. “Scream?”
She tilts her chin to the moon and exhales a soft howl. And I see Liz, and my heart somehow beating inside another person’s hand, and I can’t lose her again.
She stops, panting, cheeks pink and smile wide.
My own cheeks ache from the grin that has taken over my face. “You’re so corny, Blesk.”
She curls onto her side, watching me. “Your turn.”
I throw back my head and howl at the moon, and she giggles until her shoulders shake.