23. Violet
VIOLET
Gavin sits up, eliminating the distance between us. One long finger wraps around the end of a wet strand of my hair.
His voice is low and thick with emotion. “I know we can’t start over, but can we try and move forward?”
I wet my lips and nod. That’s why I’m here tonight, right? Because despite all that’s happened, I still want him.
His gaze drops to my mouth. He tugs my hair and leans closer. I can’t breathe in the seconds it takes for his lips to reach mine.
It isn’t our first kiss, but it feels bigger than all the others. It feels thought-out and intentional instead of reactionary.
The kisses before this were doused in frustration and desperation. This one starts softer. His lips rest on mine, and he makes a little humming sound that vibrates and tickles.
That finger around my hair comes to my chin, and he holds me in place as he finally slants his mouth over mine and kisses me with everything he has.
And what he has… there are no words except to say that Gavin is the MVP of kissing.
He sits up, taking me with him. Those fabulous hands are everywhere—sliding up my sides, tangling in my hair, caressing my face.
Somehow it still isn’t enough. Using his shoulders for balance, I scoot closer until I’m practically in his lap.
Immediately, his hands wrap around my waist, pulling me against him.
The only time we seem to make any sense is when we’re fighting or kissing. I forgot how much I wildly prefer the kissing.
He fists my wet hair and pulls my head back, giving himself access to my neck and lavishing it with kisses. A moan slips from my mouth. It feels so good. His long fingers dance along the hem of my shirt.
I press my lips against his and circle my arms around his neck.
“You’re wearing too many clothes.”
I pull back, meet his molten gaze, and lift my arms above my head.
The material lifts slowly, his eyes locked on mine the entire time. Only when the T-shirt is tossed aside, does his stare drop, and a shiver rolls up my spine from the intensity in his dark eyes.
“You’re beautiful.” His hands circle my waist, and he glides his thumb along my ribs.
My heart feels like it’s going to leap out of my chest.
“Less talking. More kissing.”
His mouth quirks up at the corner. “Yes, ma’am.”
Gavin hooks an arm around my back, like he’s worried about me running away, as he captures my mouth again in a brutal kiss that makes my toes curl.
Minutes pass with us making out like neither of us can believe this is really happening.
His lips drop to my shoulder, and he places an open-mouth kiss that he follows with a playful bite.
I push at his chest, so he falls flat on his back onto the mattress.
He stares up at me with a smirk, but when I shift my weight, so my center presses into his hard length, he groans.
Heat pools low in my stomach. I glide my hands over his abs and up to his pecs, then down along his sides. “When did you get this?”
I trace along the edges of the tattoo on the inside of his forearm, near his elbow. I thought it was writing before, but up close, I realize they’re numbers.
“Last summer.”
“Are they coordinates?”
“Mhmm.” His hands go to my knees and slide up, under the basketball shorts until the tips of his fingers brush along my panties.
“Where?” I ask, voice quivering as he teases me through the damp satin material.
“Half court.”
I stare at him, waiting for more of an explanation.
“It’s the center of the basketball court at Valley.”
“You had that tattooed on your body? Why?”
He chuckles. The movement jostles us and that tiny bit of friction silences us both, lost in overwhelming sensation.
Gavin moves his hands higher, so he’s gripping my hips under the shorts, and he holds me in place as he rocks up into me. If he’s trying to avoid the question, he’s doing a fabulous job of it.
My eyes close as a shudder wracks my body. Gavin flips us, so I’m now lying on my back as he hovers over me. He places a finger on my chest and draws a straight line, over my bra and down the middle of my stomach.
“I can’t believe you’re here. I must be dreaming.”
I pinch his side.
“Ouch. What was that for?”
“Proving you aren’t dreaming.”
Laughing, he leans down and bites my nipple through my bra. I thread my fingers through his thick hair. I don’t want to stop, but the last time we were here, tearing each other’s clothes off, I thought things were a lot more serious than they were. I can’t make that mistake again.
“Gavin.” My voice is so quiet and raspy, I have to repeat it. “Gavin.”
“Yeah?” He brings his mouth back up to mine.
“I know this isn’t our first time, but I need to take this slow.”
“Okay.” His eyes blaze into mine. And he brushes his lips softly against mine. “Can I slowly kiss you again?”
I press my mouth to his and then sit up. He sits back on his heels.
“Yes, kissing is good. I’m just not ready to have sex with you again.”
“That’s it? Anything else off-limits?” He lifts both brows in question and searches my face. It softens something inside me at how eager he seems to know my limits.
“That’s it.”
A slow smile creeps across his face and his eyes darken. “Oh, baby, that still leaves so many possibilities.”
We kiss until my lips hurt. Slow and sensual, then fast and desperate, cycling through like it’s a dozen make-out sessions in one.
We kiss until I’ve forgotten everything but being with him right now.
Despite his words, Gavin doesn’t try to push it any further than that.
And I’m thankful even though my body begs for more.
It’s incessant buzzing from Gavin’s phone that eventually breaks us apart.
He picks it up off the nightstand. “It’s Jordan. Daisy is looking for you.”
“What time is it?”
“After one.”
“Are you serious?” I sit up and run my fingers through my hair. It’s mostly dried, but a tangly mess. “We’ve been making out for hours.”
“Not nearly long enough.” He kisses me gently. “Do you have to go?”
“Yeah. I really should.”
“All right.” He rests his hand on my hip. “We have practice tomorrow, but can you hang after?”
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
He stands and helps me to my feet. I put on his T-shirt again and then corral my messy hair into a ponytail.
“Moment of truth.” He reaches for the Ziploc bag and opens it, then pulls out my cell.
I power it on and sigh in relief when it comes to life. “Oh, thank goodness.”
A dozen texts from Daisy pop up on the screen. The latest one from just a few minutes ago. I send her a quick reply, so she knows I’m alive, then grab my wet clothes and sandals.
Gavin pulls on a T-shirt and shoes, and we walk out of his room together. The party is still going, but there are a lot less people when we get downstairs.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” he says, taking my hand. “I should have taken you on a real date.”
What he’s not saying is, he’s sorry I ran into Bailey and the girl I walked in on him with a couple of weeks ago.
“I knew I’d have to face her eventually.”
“You really haven’t seen her since you moved out of the dorms?”
“Once at The Hideout, but she was too busy trying to get the attention of some football player that she didn’t notice me.” Classic Bailey, always out for the hottest or most popular guy in the room.
“She was awful to you. I know I was too, but?—”
I place my hand over his mouth. “Moving forward, remember?”
“Right.” He walks me all the way to my front door.
“I look like I’m doing the walk of shame.” I motion down to his shirt and shorts that I’m wearing.
He leans in, brushes a loose strand of my hair that’s fallen from my ponytail into my face, places a swift kiss on my lips, and then whispers, “I look forward to that.”
The house is quiet when I get inside. I go straight upstairs. My roommates are all in bed. I’m so keyed up from tonight, I can’t even think about sleeping. I take a quick shower to wash off the chlorine, and then get ready for bed. A text is waiting for me from Gavin, My bed smells like you.
As I read it, I walk to my window and look out. Gavin’s room is dark, but I send him a reply anyway.
Considering I just washed off the chlorine smell, I think you’re a liar. It smells like pool water.
Come back over and I’ll prove it.
It looks like you’re sleeping.
A second later, the light flicks on and Gavin appears in the window, and then my phone rings in my hand.
Laughing, I answer, “Hi.”
“I’m not sleeping,” he says.
“I see that.”
“I’m too amped up. Too horny.”
I snort. “Looks like there are still some people out back. You could probably find someone to take care of that.”
“You don’t really think I’m that much of an asshole, do you?”
I think for a second. Do I? I shake my head. “No, I don’t.”
“Good.” He disappears from sight but keeps talking. “Because I’m not screwing this up again.”
He grunts and then a sound like something scraping along the floor makes me wince, so I hold the phone out.
“What are you doing over there?”
The awful sound happens again and then the bed scoots into view. Gavin pops up a second later, grinning as he checks the position, pushes it some more, and then he lies on the bed and picks up the phone. “There.”
“You did not just move your bed, so you can stare creepily into my room while I sleep.”
“Oh, I so did. It’s pretty awesome. Want me to come over and move yours?”
“I am not moving my bed, but if I were, I’m perfectly capable of pushing heavy things all on my own.”
“Suit yourself.” He crosses one leg over the other and crooks an elbow behind his head.
I roll my eyes. “One second.”
I swear I can see his smug smile all the way from here.
I toss the phone on my bed and then use every ounce of my strength to push the heavy wooden bed frame away from the wall.
This bed belonged to my grandparents, and they sure knew how to make indestructible (and immovable) furniture back then.
I move the pillows to the end, so that I can lie on my side and see into Gavin’s window.
“Happy now?”
“Mhmm.”
We’re both quiet for a few seconds. The only sound is the faint beat of the music still going from the party next door.
It’s all so surreal. Part of me wants to fight this thing between us, fight him.
That is my natural reaction to all things Gavin-related.
But then I bring my fingers to my swollen lips and smile.
I can practically still taste him on my tongue and feel his mouth on my body.
That felt so much better than any fight.