Chapter 72
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
The final March Madness game of the day ends, but no complaints here, because Sophie is curled against my side on the Talbots’ worn-in sectional. My deep, contented sigh is halted by warm lips on my neck.
“I’ve missed this so much,” Sophie whispers.
My pulse doubles. Sophie was nowhere. Now she’s everywhere—leaning on me, touching me, draping her legs everywhere. I’ve lost my tolerance. Every touch is a new zing. A life-giving, threatening zing.
I’m doing this with you, right? How do you want it to go?
Levi calls a good night and leaves with a confident nod. He thinks we’ve got this.
“Hey, Soph?” I say into her hair. “Can we talk about boundaries stuff?”
She sits up. Her eyes flit to mine. This subject is dangerous.
I find her hand. “Before, I was being insanely careful—I mean, I thought I was—and things were already getting really intense.”
“Yeah.”
“And we still have a long way to go.” I squeeze her hand between mine. “You’re too beautiful for your own good. It makes this a billion times harder.”
“Ohhh-kay.”
“Hey,” I clip. “Don’t argue with me on that topic.”
Her lips quirk.
“So we need a better plan. White-knuckling this stuff isn’t going to last. Especially not anymore.”
She agrees, pushing her hair behind her pretty shoulders. “What helps with other temptations?”
I straighten, trying to focus. “Habits keep me from skipping the gym.”
“Yeah, habits. And need helps me. I need my runs. I need my Jesus time.”
I tug her back to me, kiss her head, squeeze her close. “Better than a dream. I’m so lucky.”
She grins, chin on my chest. “I love you. Oh. Mia’s mom’s donut thing.”
I chuckle. “What?”
“Mia’s mom loves donuts, so she won’t even walk through the bakery part of the grocery store, much less go through the Krispy Kreme line. I thought it was so random when Mia told me that.” Her eyes grow big, like she’s having an epiphany.
“The donuts are too tempting, so she has to stop a step back. Saying no at the store is easier than resisting one sitting on her counter.” Oh no. I beat my head against the sofa. The nos halfway down the hill are already rolling too fast. The nos at the top? Not easy, but doable.
“The Snowball Effect,” we say at once.
I jolt.
“I talked to Chelsea. But I’ll tell you about that later.”
“’Kay …”
What does it mean?
I let out a breath that’s more like a whimper.
You’re the Boss.
And my Dad. You want what’s good for me. It’s your call.
Her voice pulls me back. “What if … we copy Kit and Levi? Quit kissing. At least for now.”
My jaw falls open. She’s the one to suggest it?
“I know…” She falls dramatically against the couch. “I want to throw that idea in the air and shoot it with a shotgun.”
A strangled laugh escapes me.
“Something funny?” she asks.
“No, no.”
How do we do this? Help.
She falls serious. “I want to obey as much as you do. Things are going to be different this time around. I’m doing this with you.”
I edge forward. With.
“Okay?” she asks.
I nod, but she’s more irresistible with every word.
“We need a couple days to pray hard about it,” I say. “It won’t last if we’re not a hundred percent sure that’s what he wants from us.”
She agrees, pressing kisses to my hand. So affectionate. After everything.
I reach to run fingers up her arm, over her shoulder, through her hair. If only we could skip this part. I just want to do our life together now—tangled-up naps, sneaking up on her in the kitchen, camping in the treehouse, breakfast tacos in bed.
“When can I marry you?” I blurt.
She bursts into a laugh, closes the distance until she’s wrapped around my arm. “Not right now, mister. We have to figure this out.”
I grunt. “Fine.”
Hand still in her hair, I flash back to Friend Phase.
I was so anxious to blast past it, but those months were good.
Simple. We learned so much about each other but without all the complication, the temptation.
I wouldn’t go backward—not on your life—but I wish I hadn’t been such a bulldozer with the timing.
You’re on it, right?
With a deep breath, I steel myself to sit in this part. Having her back is so good. I wanna soak in all this goodness before we have bills and jobs and real life—that is, if she’ll have me.
“I’m gonna ask you that for real someday.” I drag a thumb down her jaw. “And I hope you’ll have a different answer.”
As her eyes grow with fiery affection, a slow shiver rolls down my spine.
Her eyes drop to my lips, and she bites her own—
Until she bolts off the couch and up the stairs. “Good night!”
I slump against the sofa—equal parts gratitude and longing.
Back on campus, I sit at my desk, humbled at the chance to take care of my favorite business.
Pitch dark out the window in front of me, but my eyes aren’t drooping shut.
And I can meet my reflection without flinching.
Just got off the phone with Dad, and now it’s time to text Sophie a song link.
Like I used to. Like I will again. Tonight? A song from Dad’s favorite band.
Song of the day
“All In” by Lifehouse
Next, I write her a note. It takes me three drafts and a brief handwriting crisis, but I finally get it perfect. I try to tear it out … and the page rips in half.
“Come on …”
Levi tosses over a roll of tape, laugh barely suppressed.
“Save it,” I mutter. “And thanks.”
sophie,
you have 5 smiles.
1. faking it
2. medium happy
3. excited (often with clapping)
4. when someone sings along with you or goes along with your crazy idea (even more clapping)
5. in my arms
love,
austin
After class the next day, I’m walking in and tossing my backpack on the floor when Sophie texts.
Your note, mister…
She found it. I snuck it in her notebook yesterday. Adrenaline already buzzing, I smack my palm.
Did I nail it?
Not fair. You’re not even scrawny.
A grin splits my face.
I’m a puddle.
Levi and Haymitch stride in. Power stance from one. Disappointed head shake from the other. My face falls. This can’t be good.
“Phone,” Levi demands, hand out.
“It’s better if you don’t resist, Samwise,” Haymitch says, all fake sympathy. “’Fraid you brought this on yourself.”
And I know.
A pack of Flooders barrels in behind them, tackling me on the couch, grabbing me by the wrists and ankles.
“I know where y’all sleep!” I holler over a laugh, ripping free before they dogpile me on the floor.
Mateo swaggers in, crosses his arms. “Took you long enough.”
Next stop: the communal showers. And then I’m airborne—limbs flailing, dignity optional—into a fully clothed, ice-cold, sopping-wet fresh start.