CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
GRANT
T he next morning, Lina and I touch back down in New Haven, where another car is waiting to take us back to campus.
Christmas break isn’t even technically over yet, but since it’s now January, I have a bowl game to play in a few days.
It made more sense to come straight here.
Lina didn’t mind joining me since Eden, Meredith, and Kara are already planning on going to the game, and when she talked to them on the phone early this morning, they had all agreed to go together.
It’s also New Year’s Eve, making the decision for us all to be together back at the apartment even easier.
When we woke up in Martha’s Vineyard, tangled together in my bed, I was convinced everything would be uncomfortable between us.
I thought the unexpectedness of us kissing last night was going to wash over like a tide we couldn’t outrun, pulling us both under. But, when I rolled over to try and escape from under her hold before she stirred awake, her arms tightened around me, pulling me back into her.
I didn’t say anything, just buried my face in the crook of her neck as though it was the most natural thing in the world, like we hadn’t crossed a line that should’ve changed everything.
And somehow, it didn’t. Somehow, we stayed in that soft moment, wrapped up in each other like there was no before and no after. Only now.
We eventually dragged ourselves out of bed and packed up our things, leaving the island that felt like it was made entirely of borrowed time.
But Lina is a contradiction all in herself. I can tell the idea of a hookup makes her apprehensive, and it makes sense given her past experiences. I also know that she finds something about the idea intriguing—she wouldn’t have asked me if I could make her come if she didn’t.
And now all it has me thinking about is how I want to be the one to do it. I want to prove to her that the reason she’s never had an orgasm is because her ex-boyfriend—the same one who cheated on her—never gave a damn.
Now, sitting beside her in the backseat of the car, the world feels heavier again. Campus is getting closer with every passing mile, and I can already feel the weight of everything we left unsaid settling between us.
My fingers tap against my knee, a steady, anxious rhythm I barely realized I was doing at first.
Out of the corner of my eye, I feel Lina’s gaze burning into me. When I turn fully, her eyes are locked on mine.
“You okay?” I ask. Usually it’s me getting caught staring at her, not the other way around.
She nods half-heartedly. “Yeah. I had a lot of fun on the island.”
“I’m glad.” It would have been even better if I could have given her an orgasm, but time didn’t quite work in our favor. “You’ll have to come back some time. I’m sure my sisters would love it if they could be there.”
“I’d love that.”
Right then, the driver pulls into the parking lot of our apartment complex. I open the door, grabbing her by the elbow and pulling her across the bench so she can exit on the same side as me.
I hold a hand up to the driver, letting him know he doesn’t have to get our bags for us. Lina and I both head for the trunk, and before she can, I grab both of our bags, starting to carry them toward the front steps.
“I can take it.” She doesn’t try to, but she has to let me know that this is something she can do for herself, even though I insist on helping.
“I know. I’m glad you let me feel useful.”
That’s what I also brush it off as. Anytime I do something for her—no matter how much of it is for my own peace of mind—I let her believe it’s because I’m simply a nice guy, not because I’m completely spiraling.
And carrying her bag might be just that—me being nice—but everything else? It all stems from the fact that I can’t stand to let anything be out of my control.
We make our way toward the elevator, and for the first few seconds of the ride up to our floor, I think Lina’s going to ignore me.
But then she turns away from the control panel and toward me. Her eyes flick up to my face, almost like she’s searching for something—reassurance or a confirmation of sorts.
“Did you mean what you said?” she asks softly, running her hands through her hair like she so often does. “About me being able to take you up on your offer anytime?”
My throat tightens just from looking at her. “Yeah. I did.”
“Even if I’m still figuring things out?”
“Especially then,” I say, stepping a little bit closer.
“Even if I don’t know what I want?”
“Even then.”
The column of her neck works through a swallow. “Okay.”
For a second, I think that’s the end of it. That we’ll ride the rest of the way to our floor in a silent elevator, the heaviness of what we agreed upon sitting between us like an extra set of luggage.
But Lina takes a step toward me, and then another one.
And when she looks up at me, there’s something steadier than I expected in her eyes.
She rises on her toes, barely hesitating so that she does what she wants to do. At the same time, she’s giving me the option to pull away, like I did for her last night. I don’t move. I couldn’t if I tried.
Her lips finally brush mine, and this time it’s completely different than it was at the house. It’s featherlight at first, and it nearly undoes me.
Still, I kiss her back just as gently, careful not to startle whatever it is we’re balancing between us.
Each moment of the kiss sends a pulse of relief through me, letting me know that I didn’t royally fuck up our friendship by kissing her.
All of it rocks me because I’ve never had my heart pound against my chest like this over a simple kiss.
Because this—whatever the fuck this is—doesn’t feel anything like my normal hookup.
Then again, Lina never has felt that way to me.
There’s no rush, no expectation, no performance. Just Lina standing in front of me, trusting me enough to close that distance between us.
When she pulls away, I want to say something clever to dissolve the feeling of my chest splintering open from being this close to her.
But then she rests her head lightly against my shoulder, and I know this isn’t just desire pummeling me like it would be with any other girl.
It’s care. Real, messy, terrifying care.
Then, the elevator dings and the doors slide open, reacquainting us with the real world where the doors to our apartments are just outside the confines of this small metal box.
We step out, and I carry her bag to her door, setting it beside her while she pulls her key out and unlocks the door before pushing it open.
“I’ll see you soon?” she asks.
“Yeah, really soon.”
She smiles, and it hits me like a punch in the chest. Then, her fingers graze mine when she picks up her bag, and she lingers in the doorway like she’s not sure she wants to put the door between us yet.
I don't want her to either. I stay standing here even after she steps inside, instead of relieving myself of this torture and walking down the hall toward my own apartment.
“Thank you for everything, Grant. Seriously.”
Even though she says ‘ everything,’ I’m still not sure what that entails. The obvious answer would be me taking her to Martha’s Vineyard, getting her away from the grief of her mom.
But is she also including everything else that happened? Me kissing her and offering to give her the type of pleasure she’s never experienced?
“Anytime,” I tell her. “You don’t even have to thank me.”
I think she might say something else—might cross that space between us one more time. But she nods, eyes soft, and finally steps fully inside.
“Let me know if you can’t sleep tonight, alright?”
“I might end up in your bed tonight,” she says it like a joke, even though we both know the truth behind it.
“You know you’re always welcome.” I prefer that anyway.
Lina gives me one last look before her lips upturn and she lets the door click shut between us. I stare at it for a moment, like maybe if I wait long enough, she’ll open it again and pull me back inside.
She doesn’t.
At least as I walk down the hall toward my unit, I have a good feeling I’ll be seeing her around bedtime.