23. Austin
AUSTIN
I ’ve played in packed arenas with a hundred people chanting my name and coaches breathing down my neck. I’ve been in fistfights mid-game and taken slapshots to the ribs. But none of that compares to the way my stomach’s twisting right now.
I grip the steering wheel tighter, and glance sideways at the girl sitting next to me.
She’s not saying anything, just fiddling with the hem of her dress—this soft, flowy, blue thing that clings to the curve of her waist and shows off the swell of her chest like it’s specifically designed to fucking torture me.
Her hands are on her lap, and I catch a peek of her thick thighs pressing into the seat, smooth and soft and driving me absolutely insane in the best way possible.
I can’t stop staring. Every time she glances at me, I feel it in my chest.
She looks like everything I’ve ever wanted but never knew how to ask for.
“Okay,” I say, clearing my throat because, fuck, it feels weird saying this to anyone but Cherry. “Confession.”
She glances at me, curious.
“This is my first date,” I admit.
Her eyes go wide. “You’ve never been on a date?”
I shake my head. “Never really wanted to. There’s never been a girl I was dying to see outside of my bedroom.”
She laughs. I swear I feel it crawl up my spine and settle into my chest. “So I’m your first?”
“No.” I catch her eyes and my lips twitch. “You’re my only.”
Maisie flushes, tucking hair behind her ear like she’s trying to disappear. The dash lights flicker on her cheekbones, and for a second I’m stuck just staring—not wanting to look away.
I flick on my blinker and turn in, tires crunching over gravel as I pull into the drive-in lot just off campus. A few cars are scattered across the rows, most with their windows down, some with people sitting on their roofs or stretched out in truck beds.
I kill my headlights and ease into a spot near the middle. String lights line the fences and snack stand, and there’s that familiar smell of popcorn and something fried drifting through the air.
I shift into park and lean back, drumming my fingers on the wheel. We’re probably a little too early. I’ve never been early a day in my life, but I don’t want her to miss the movie.
She looks over at me, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. “We’re at a drive-in?”
I shoot her a smile before I hop out of the truck, jog around to her side, and open the door, holding out my hand. “C’mon.”
She blinks up at me. “You’re really committing to this, huh?”
A grin spreads across my face. “I’m a gentleman. Now, give me your hand.”
Her fingers slip into mine as I help her out of the truck. Jesus, I can smell that soft vanilla scent of hers, and the freckles dusting across her nose catch the light just right.
She looks like summer. Like soft blue skies, and warm cheeks and something I probably don’t deserve.
“Maisie,” I say, quiet, trying not to fuck this up.
She meets my eyes.
“You’re—” I pause, blowing out a breath. Screw it. “You look so fucking beautiful.”
Her mouth parts, and she goes pink, like she didn’t expect that. She smiles softly, drifting her eyes over my body. “You look pretty good, too.”
“I know,” I tease with a grin. “I always do.”
She scoffs, shaking her head, then walks over to the back of the truck and drops the tailgate. Her eyes widen when she sees what I set up.
I laid out every blanket I could steal from the house.
Thick ones, soft ones, even stole Nathan’s freaking weighted one because I heard it’s calming or something—heavy as fuck by the way.
I shoved a cooler in the corner with a couple of sodas, a bag of popcorn, and basically every kind of candy I could find at the gas station.
She lets out this breath, like maybe she’s impressed or just trying not to laugh. “You went all out.”
I shrug, rubbing my neck again. “I wanted to make it special for you.”
When she glances at me, that weird ache hits my chest again. The one that only happens whenever she looks at me.
I help her up into the bed of the truck. She settles in against the pillows, and I tuck the blankets around her, checking twice that she’s comfortable.
The screen lights up as the projector kicks in.
She blinks, her eyebrows shooting up. “Wait. Is that?—”
I nod. “You’ve Got Mail.”
She turns to look at me, those soft eyes that somehow kill me every damn time. “That’s my favorite movie.”
“Yeah,” I chuckle, feeling the stupid grin creep onto my face. “I know.”
“You remembered that?”
I shrug, suddenly way too aware of how fast my heart’s pounding. I scratch the back of my neck. “I listen when you talk, Maisie.”
She looks at me for a second, this soft, quiet look that makes my chest tighten. Like she’s actually seeing me. And fuck, I’m sitting here on a first date with a girl, and suddenly I’m nervous as hell. I don’t get nervous. I always know what to say, what to do, how to flirt.
But I’m at a complete loss when it comes to this girl.
“I’ve never watched this one,” I admit, grabbing a handful of popcorn and stuffing it into my mouth.
She snaps her head toward me, shocked. “What? How?”
I shrug again. “I dunno. I think I tend to go for the more recent stuff.”
“Then you’re in for a treat,” she says with a smile. “The old ones are always the best.”
“High praise,” I say with a teasing smirk.
She nods. “You better pay attention.”
“I’ll try,” I say, but honestly, I’m barely watching the screen. I’m watching her.
The way her hair catches the light of the glowing screen. The curve of her cheek when she smiles. The soft sounds she makes when she laughs at a line.
I hold the bag of popcorn out to her, but she pauses, eyes flicking from the snacks to me, brows knitting just a little.
I remember that day at the diner when she barely ate, even when I slid the mozzarella sticks her way. She was clearly hungry, but it was like eating in front of me made her freeze up or something.
Which is fucking ridiculous. Everyone eats. She shouldn’t feel weird about that. Ever.
And if I ever found out someone said something to her, there’s not a goddamn person on this planet that could stop me from plummeting them into the ground.
“I got like six other snacks if you want something else,” I offer.
She smiles, and I swear I see something loosen in her shoulders. “I’m more of an Oreo girl.”
My smile widens, and I open the bag, reaching for those. “Lucky for you, I panicked in the snack aisle and bought half the store.”
She laughs, rips open the pack, and grabs one.
“I used to watch this movie with my sister,” she says, her eyes glued to the screen. “We’d quote it line for line.” She lets out a sigh. “This part always makes me cry.”
I glance down at her. “Why?”
She shrugs. “It’s just… sad, I guess. Two people in the same city, walking past each other every day and not knowing what they’re missing.”
Yeah.
I think about all the times I must’ve walked past her and didn’t even know she existed. And now she’s here, curled up beside me, and I don’t know how I ever went this long without her.
Halfway through, she shifts. Her head rests lightly against my chest. My arm slides around her waist without me even thinking about it. She lets out the tiniest sigh, nestling in closer, and I just sit there, blinking at the screen, my heart pounding like a jackhammer.
My heart is beating so loud, I’m surprised she doesn’t comment on it.
This feels good. This feels right.
I don’t remember the last time I felt like this.
I shift closer to her, and I feel her body stiffen just a little.
“You okay?” I murmur, glancing down at her.
“Yeah,” she says, lifting her eyes to look up at me. Fuck, those eyes . “I just… like this.”
I tighten my arm around her just a little. She reaches out and places her hand over mine. Her thumb rubs over my knuckles, and I want to pull her into my chest and keep her there. Forever. She has no idea what that little touch is doing to me. None.
I stare at the screen and pretend I’m following the movie, but the only thing I’m thinking about is the girl pressed into my side.
By the time the credits roll, she’s half-asleep on my shoulder, her hand curled lightly over my stomach. I don’t move. Don’t want to.
I want to stay like this.
Right here, with her tucked into me.
“That was so good,” I say, even though I barely watched half of it.
She tilts her head, eyes still sleepy but bright. “You liked it?”
“I liked the company more,” I tease with a smile.
She chuckles, rolls those eyes and I feel my stomach churn at the thought of saying goodbye to her tonight.
I force myself to shift, gently nudging her. “C’mon. Let’s get you back.”
She sits up slowly, blinking up at me. “Yeah. Okay.”
I help her down from the truck, my fingers brushing her waist just a second longer than necessary. She doesn’t pull away.
While I pack up the pillows and toss the blankets in the back, she waits near the passenger door, arms folded against the wind. Her hair whips around her face, and I swear it takes everything in me not to just kiss her right then and there.
The drive back is quiet, her head leaned against the window, my fingers drumming absently on the steering wheel, looking for something to do.
When I pull up in front of her dorm, I kill the engine and glance over.
“I’ll walk you up.”
She smiles. “Okay.”
The hallway’s empty, our footsteps the only sound. Her door’s halfway down the hall, and for once, I don’t have anything cocky or stupid to say.
She stops at her room and turns to face me.
“Thank you for the date,” she says, and her voice is so damn sincere it knocks something loose in my chest.
I reach out, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear, my fingers skimming her cheek. “Best one I’ve ever been on.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “It’s the only one you’ve ever been on.”
“Still the best.”
She smiles, and my heart is thudding in my chest, in my throat, in the way my thumb brushes along her cheek.
“There’s one more thing,” I murmur, taking a step closer. “To make this the perfect date.”
She looks up at me, those soft, blue eyes all wide and shining, and damn… she looks like a porcelain doll. Gorgeous, delicate, impossible not to stare at, and I’m scared I’ll break her just by looking too long.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
My thumb traces the corner of her mouth. “This.”
I lift her chin gently, my stomach fluttering at the sound of her breath catching in her throat.
I’m freaking out. Not that I’d ever admit that out loud. But my heart’s pounding, and I feel like it’s my first kiss.
“Can I kiss you?” I whisper.
She nods. Barely. Just the smallest tilt of her chin.
I stare at her a second longer, memorizing everything about her. Her freckles. The shape of her mouth. The little dip in her chin. My thumb strokes across her cheek, and then I lean in—closer, closer—giving her every chance to stop me.
She doesn’t.
She leans into me.
And I kiss her.
Slow. Soft. Fucking perfect.
I take my sweet ass time, because this girl deserves it. She deserves the best damn kiss in the whole entire world.
Her lips are soft and warm and sweet—so damn sweet—and she tastes like that cherry Chapstick she always wears. I could drown in it.
She gasps slightly, her lips parting, and it feels like permission. I tilt her jaw and kiss her deeper, licking into her mouth, and groan when I feel her gasp, pressing her hands against my chest.
Christ.
This kiss.
This girl.
I don’t know how long we stay like that—minutes, hours, lifetimes—but when I finally pull back, her lips are pink and swollen, her breathing fast. Mine’s not any better. I don’t ever remember having a kiss that felt like that before.
I rest my forehead against hers, my thumb brushing gently over her bottom lip. She’s flushed, wide-eyed, absolutely wrecked in the best way, and all because of me.
I can’t believe she’s real. Can’t believe I went on with my life for years, without noticing her, without being in her presence. Because now it feels physically impossible not to be around her.
“Was it everything you pictured?” I ask, my voice still rough.
She exhales. “Better.”
My lips twitch into a smirk. “Did your foot pop?”
She rolls her eyes and shoves my shoulder. “You ruined it.”
“Nuh uh.” I shake my head, grinning like an idiot. “Nothing could ruin that kiss, Freckles.”
Her blush deepens as she bites her lip and murmurs, “Goodnight, Austin.”
She slips inside and closes the door before I can say anything else.
I just stand there for a second, staring at the closed door, hoping it might open again. My pulse is still hammering, and my chest tight in a way that feels good. Really fucking good.
I run a hand through my hair, blowing out a breath.
I should be thinking about Cherry. Hell, I was spiraling over all this just a few days ago, conflicted as fuck.
But all I can think about is Maisie.
I don’t even know if she wants something with me, or if this meant as much to her as it did to me.
But I know what I want.
I want her.
More than a tutor.
More than a friend.
And I’m gonna win her over.
No matter what it takes.