14. Chapter 14
Carter
B efore recently, I avoided the library at all costs. Now I slowed down in front of the doors.
“Hey, man. You comin’?” Anthony asked when I didn’t react to whatever he had been saying, instead staring at the library I knew she was probably inside. Benny stopped, turning around when he discovered he was mumbling something to himself about a new girl he was trying to get with.
“Yeah, I’ll catch up with you guys.” I waved, signaling for them to keep walking.
He furrowed his brow, likely torn between staying to question me and hurrying after the group of men undoubtedly headed for a cold beer.
“I gotta take care of something real quick.” I pointed with my thumb to the door of the library like it explained why I needed to go into the library on a Friday afternoon for probably the first time in four years.
“Whatever you say, dude.” If he knew what I was doing, he didn’t say anything.
Anthony was observant—he didn’t know that I had been thinking about cherry lip balm for two days or that I had eaten pie for breakfast twice, but he knew that there was something going on.
He watched me walk her out of the party, and he knew she worked at the library.
He also knew it wasn’t common for me to get hung up on a girl, so why was I doing so with the good girl of the year?
“Don’t take too long!” Benny shouted when Anthony took off to catch up with him.
I didn’t wait for them to turn the corner before I pulled the door open and hurried inside, heading straight for the shelves like I knew exactly which book I was looking for.
In a sense, I do. When I caught a glimpse of her stretching onto her toes to reach a tall shelf, I paused, watching her face twist with concentration.
“Hey, cherry,” I said, leaning against the side of the shelf. She gasped, nearly dropping the book and wincing when she thought it might come tumbling toward her face. “Do you want some help with that?”
She smiled, looking at the book in her hand and then back at the shelf. “What are you doing here?” she asked, cradling the book in her arm instead.
I took it from her, reaching up to the shelf and sliding it into place while she watched.
She was waiting for an answer. I sighed.
“I wanted to see you. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I’ve eaten cherry pie for breakfast every day since you brought it over, but I can’t stop thinking about you. ”
“About me?” She put her hand over her chest like she was surprised, and I nodded.
“Well, it’s either you or the pie.” I laughed and when she realized I was joking about the pie being on my mind, she laughed too. Then she blushed, and the sweet color made her face almost glow. It was such a stark contrast to the dark books and even darker wooden shelves.
“I’ve been thinking about you too,” she finally admitted.
She chewed on her lip like she was nervous, and, for a second, I thought she might chew through it.
I reached out, using my thumb to tug her lip from between her teeth, licking mine when hers practically shimmered.
Suddenly all I could think about was the way her lip balm tasted and the soft whimper that had slipped from her when we kissed. What was it about this girl?
I stepped toward her, backing her into the shelf and savoring the quiet, breathy gasp that slipped from her probably-cherry-flavored lips.
When she looked up at me and her lashes fluttered, it took all of my effort to remain in control.
“Then let me take you out,” I said, brushing her hair away from her face.
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” Why was she so surprised? “Hank’s has pretty good pie.” I winked and the blush on her cheeks darkened more.
She looked around like she was looking for someone—or maybe like she was waiting for the catch. There is no catch. “Okay,” she finally said, convincing herself that it wasn’t a game. “When?”
“When are you off?”
Beth checked her watch, and a sweet smile tugged at her lips. “In about an hour.”
“Then I’ll pick you up in an hour.” When her face scrunched up in an effort to stop her smile from becoming a full-on grin, I winked. I took the book from her, reaching up to the shelf and slipping it into the space she had been trying to get to earlier.
“I’ll see you in an hour.”
“Do you come here a lot?” Beth asked, looking around the diner while she took a bite out of her burger. I shrugged but shook my head, becoming less interested in the fries and half-eaten burger on my plate.
“Not really. Only on occasion.” I thought about the selection of pie flavors listed on the menu that I had never tried but they were apparently known for. “Bringing you to try their cherry pie, which is supposedly pretty great, felt like a good occasion.”
She narrowed her eyes at me while she ate a fry. When she chewed, she pursed her lips like she was deep in thought. Then she swallowed and laced her fingers together, laying her hands on the table. “Okay, I have a question.”
Before I could urge her on, suddenly more than curious what question had her face twisted up like that, we were interrupted. “Did you two save any room for dessert?” the waiter asked, eyeing our still-unfinished meals.
“I think we’re really just here for the dessert,” I said. “We’ll take two slices of cherry pie, and maybe bring me one more to go.” Beth giggled when I ordered extra pie, already craving it the next day.
“I’ll be right back with that.” He walked away, already promising to interrupt us again in a few minutes, but I was dying to hear Beth’s question.
I pushed my plate to the side and leaned on my elbows. “What were you going to ask me?”
Her eyes got wider, and she rolled her lips together. “It’s silly. I kinda don’t know if I want to ask it now.”
“Oh, come on. I dare you.” She stared at me like she was incapable of pulling her gaze away. “Ask me anything.”
“Okay fine.” Beth looked around like she was making sure we wouldn’t get interrupted. “Are you really rich?”
I laughed. I don’t know what I had been expecting her to ask, but that wasn’t it.
For most around here, it was somewhat common knowledge that my family was well off.
Who told her? I shook my head. “No, I’m not,” I said when the waiter returned, setting plates and a to-go box in front of us.
“But my dad is,” I finished when he nodded briefly and walked away. Beth gasped.
“You don’t seem like it.” Her fingers twirled around each other, and I imagined the nerves in her stomach were doing the same thing. When she noticed my staring, she snatched her fork from the table and pulled one of the dessert plates toward her.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, doing the same. The sweet scent drifted from the plate and made my mouth water. When she licked her lips and hummed, my mouth watered even more.
Beth waved her fork when she talked, apparently forgetting about the cherry filling about to drip from the end of it.
“I just mean that you’re, like, different from what I think really rich people would be like.
You’re nicer.” She paused, eating the bite and moaning her approval.
“And you know where to get really good pie. I don’t think rich people know where to get good pie.
They know people who know where to get good pie. ”
She giggled at her assumption, clearly amused with herself. Then she stopped suddenly and looked at me, locking her stare on mine and taking another bite. When her eyes flickered shut, it made my stomach flip, and I started to picture other ways to get her to make the same face.
“Does your dad know where to get good pie?” she finally asked, like she had been turning the thought over in her mind between nibbles. I threw my head back and laughed at the cherry-coated innocence that drifted from her question.
“Where do you think I learned about Hank’s?” I winked, and she scrunched her nose like she was considering if she accepted the answer before her lips broke in a grin. “It’s good, isn’t it?” I was glad it lived up to the hype.
Beth nodded. “It’s so good.” She took the last bite, looking at the crumbs on her plate like she might lick them up. “I take back what I said about rich people not knowing where to find good pie.”
“Thanks for buying me dinner,” Beth said. I stood slightly behind her while she unlocked the door to her room. Her hands shook slightly, and the key rattled against the lock. She hadn’t seemed nervous at dinner. What changed?
“It was my pleasure, cherry.” The deep pink that colored her cheeks when I said it was worth every penny it cost. I’d take her to any restaurant she wanted if I could watch her blush like that after dessert.
When she opened the door, she turned back to look at me and licked her lips. “Do you want to come in?” she asked, nodding behind her as if to clarify what she meant. “My roommates aren’t here.”
“I’d love to,” I said, lifting a brow and guiding her into her own room.
Her mouth hung open with each step backward she took, but her eyes got darker, even as she turned on the light, revealing an abundance of purple blankets and pillows.
I bit back a small laugh, suddenly interested in seeing how Beth looked against the purple blankets on the bed. “When will your roommates be back?”
I put my hand on Beth’s waist, gently tugging her toward me.
She drifted weightlessly, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Not for a few hours.” Her voice was light, and the nerves that had been vibrating through her earlier were less detectable until she lifted her hand and it shook. She placed it on my chest.
“Good,” I said, watching her tongue glide along her bottom lip. “Because I’ve been looking forward to this since we left the restaurant.” Her eyes got wide just before my lips captured hers and then her body relaxed. The tension in her muscles slipped away while she melted against me.
When I brushed my tongue along her lip, she parted them, and I tasted dessert mixed with her cherry lip balm.
It was sweet—almost as sweet as the whimper she made when I weaved my fingers into her hair and held her face closer to mine, and I kissed her deeper.
I became desperate to taste every sweet exhale, and I wanted to memorize the way her lips almost quivered.
A gasp broke from between our mouths when I lifted her, carrying her the few steps to her bed and gently laying her on her back.
I was right: the sight of Beth draped on her bed was enough to make my pants feel tighter and my self-control feel thinner.
The purple sheets were the perfect contrast to make her green eyes brighter.
I crawled onto the bed after her, and it squeaked when it dipped beneath our weight.
Beth arched her back when I kissed her again, and she shivered when I ran my fingers down the length of her side. I imagined the goosebumps that probably lingered behind my touch. She kissed me back until her hands flattened against my chest and she pushed.
“Wait, hold on,” she whispered, turning and looking away from me. Her muscles flexed, and I sat up.
“What’s wrong?”
“I… haven’t ever done this before.” Beth covered her face with her hands, but the almost-purple blush peeked from beneath her fingers.
I tilted my head, gently guiding them back to her lap. “Haven’t done what before?”
“Hooked up with anyone.” Then she dropped her voice to a whisper. “I’m a… um…” She bit her lip. She didn’t have to finish the sentence. A virgin.
“We can slow down,” I said, cradling her face in my palm. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Beth grimaced. “I know, but…” She blinked, taking a deep breath before she opened her eyes back up, “what if you like me less?” She winced when I brought my other hand to her face and forced her to look at me.
“That’s not going to happen.”
“How can you be so sure?” Her eyes darted anywhere they could to avoid meeting mine.
“Because I’m not like these other guys. I like you because of the way you blush so easily and the way your eyes lit up tonight when you took the first bite.
I like you because you’re different than any girl I’ve met, and because I can’t place my finger on why.
” I put my forehead against hers. “But it’s definitely not because I thought you might put out. That never crossed my mind.”
She smiled and pursed her lips, tilting her head until they met mine. “I like you because you’re different too,” she said, and butterflies I hadn’t felt since my first date as a teenager made me almost sick to my stomach. “And because you’re a really good kisser.” Beth giggled.
“I like kissing you too, and I plan to do a lot more of it,” I said, wiggling my brows and soaking in every congruent laugh. “Now what do you say we split this other piece of pie?”
Beth scrunched her nose like she had to think hard about the decision until her face lit up. Then she jumped up off the bed. “I’ll grab a fork.”