Chapter 9 Milton
Milton
Hazel quickly shot her hand up to her mouth, her fingertips covering her lips. One emotion after the next flicked across her gaze, too fast for me to decipher, but it was clear she was conflicted about something.
Had she felt the spark I had?
Had I hurt her?
The thought of biting her lip had crossed my mind, but I hadn’t actually done it, had I?
Oh fuck, what if it was just a bad kiss? I’d never had a girl complain about my kissing before, but, hell, there was a first for everything.
What if every kiss she’d had before this one was heart-eyes-and-fireworks-worthy and I was just a complete letdown in comparison?
For me though … well, that was as good as first kisses got.
Her lips had felt like fire, warming my skin that was cold from the rain.
The warmth still lingered on my mouth, even now, as we sat staring at one another.
“Hazel?” I finally asked, trying to break through the frozen-like state she was in. “Is everything okay?”
She blinked and dropped her eyes from mine and her hand from her lips, nodding.
I wished I’d taken ASL back in school instead of fucking French class, which I had nearly flunked out of and couldn’t remember a lick of.
It was entirely unfair that she didn’t have a way of communicating with me.
No phone to text with. No pen or paper. Hell, if I had any kind of writing utensil, I’d let her write whatever she wanted to tell me over every inch of my skin.
Dammit.
I hated not knowing what she was thinking.
I tried to read her face now that I could see all of it, but her lips distracted me and took hold of my thoughts once more.
Now that I knew how they molded perfectly with my own, soft yet firm and a little wet, I was helpless to think of anything but.
And, fuck, that one teasing swipe of her tongue had had me soaring.
My head tilted a fraction toward hers again, yearning for another touch, another taste. She leaned in like she wanted it just as much as I did and then stilled when our breaths connected.
Letting my head fall away first, I offered her a gentle smile. “Looks like the rain stopped,” I said, feeling the need to give her an out. I jutted my chin at the streetlights reflecting off the wet road behind her.
She turned and followed my gaze and then looked back at me. My mouth. And there was that sliver of hope I held on to that she was looking at it for the same reason I was looking at hers and not just to read whatever words I spoke next.
I swallowed, figuring it was the latter. “Would you like me to take you home?”
She stared at my mouth for a moment longer before meeting my gaze and releasing a sigh.
Riddled with disappointment—not in her, but in whatever it was that I’d done—I watched her nod.
“Did I … push you?”
She cocked her head, letting me know she didn’t understand, and I realized I’d mumbled my words.
I made sure to enunciate when I reiterated my concern. “Did I make you uncomfortable or anything?” The thought made my stomach turn as I waited for her to answer.
Her brows pushed up in the middle, and she quickly shook her head.
I made certain she was looking at me—really looking at me—when I asked, “Are you sure?” And, my God, her stare was mesmerizing.
Her eyes were the shade of green you only got in the morning hours, when the sun shone through the trees just right, beams of light hitting thousands of leaves all at once. It could make me—a lover of sunsets—fall in love with sunrises just a little bit more.
Hazel touched my arm and nodded with reassurance. With a playful tilt of her mouth, she tapped the top of her wrist, where a watch would be, signaling to me of the time.
I wasn’t completely convinced that the late hour was her reason for wanting to leave, but if even a part of her was uncomfortable, being here with me, I didn’t want to press the question and keep her any more than I already had.
Standing, I brushed off my pants and offered her my hand, helping her up, and then gave her the helmet.
We made our way down the slanted concrete to where I’d parked my bike, and I started it up before wiping my forearm across her seat, even though we were both thoroughly soaked from before.
Swinging her golden-blonde hair back off her shoulders, she fixed the helmet into place and then stepped up next to me, waiting for me to assist her again with the chin strap.
God, she was fucking adorable. Seeing my T-shirt and jacket falling over her curves and swallowing her petite frame made a strange possessiveness bubble up inside me.
I wanted to pick her up and spin her in the air until I heard her laugh. To set her down, body pinned against mine, and kiss her until we both felt dizzy with desire for more.
Instead, I looped and tightened the helmet strap slowly, taking one last long look at her eyes before sliding the protective shade down to cover them.
Once she situated herself behind me on the bike, I eased back out onto the road.
Giving me directions, she held me from behind all the way to her place, like she was hugging me goodbye.
I guessed that made sense; I was dropping her off without us exchanging numbers or working out a way to see her again.
But that was the way it had to be. That was what it seemed like she wanted.
I certainly wasn’t expecting the feeling I got when I pulled up outside the apartment complex. I’d only just met this girl, and I already had this strange ache at the thought of never seeing her again.
Hazel gave me one long, final squeeze and then swung her leg over the back of my bike. She shook her blonde hair out before handing me my helmet. And then my jacket.
“Thank you,” she mouthed and signed to me, her eyes lingering on me as if she was taking a mental picture.
I did the same, blinking as I took in every feature.
Her soft green eyes. Click.
Her cute, round nose. Click.
Her rosy-framed smile. Click.
The messy tendrils of her hair. Click.
“Anytime,” I replied, swallowing the lump forming in my throat.
Her mouth stretched into a smile, but it never made it to her eyes before it fell. With a little wave, she shyly turned and walked away from me.
I watched her every step until she was inside and out of my sight.
Click.