Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 137572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 688(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 459(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 688(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 459(@300wpm)
I grab hold of his wrist at once, stopping him.
He looks at me. “Something wrong?”
When I meet his eyes, an actual earthquake of excitement has its way with my belly. Does it have to do with what he just said? That we’re all alone? That I’m his?
That he’s mine?
“Vann, I …” Still gripping his wrist, his fingers still hanging on to my zipper, our hips and half-open crotches so blissfully close to one another, I find it difficult to draw breath. “I just … I feel … I … I feel like … like there’s something I need to say first …”
“Come on.” His voice is oddly gentle, soft, and sweet. Gentle, soft, and sweet aren’t words I think I’ve ever associated with Vann before. Maybe this is the real him, the sweet guy who’s taken all this time to finally come out of his shell. “Don’t be afraid. Just say what’s on your mind. Isn’t that what I taught you?”
Be bold, he’s said. Be confident, he’s said. You’ve got the right to do whatever it is you want. This town’s yours. I guess even Mrs. Tucker herself said that same thing in different words. Yet somehow, hearing it from Vann, I seem to believe it more.
A flicker of mischief enters my eyes. “Watch out.”
Vann’s eyebrows pull together. “For what?”
Without warning, I tackle him, my body smacking right into his hard set of abs. He lets out one uncharacteristic yelp of shock before the pair of us fall into the pool with a huge, loud splash. The world turns over several times as our hands grapple for one another’s bodies under the water, and then together, we break the surface laughing. We’re in each other’s arms, floating, light from the water shimmering across his face as I gaze into his beautiful, dark eyes. Then our laughter is gone, and the only thing we know is our faces as we stare, ghosts of our laughter in our teary eyes.
Then I kiss him. And I kiss him again. And again. I don’t know how it happens, but at once, I’ve got him pinned to the side of the pool with all of my kissing, and I can’t stop. My hands have a journey of their own, too, as they slide down the wet, smooth skin of his chest and stomach. Under the water, I find the buttons to his jeans—and decide to finish a certain task I interrupted. While we kiss, Vann’s fingers follow my lead as they fumble underwater for my zipper. He loosens my slacks, and down they go in the water. Both of us are now in a swimming pool, in the dead of night, wearing nothing but our underwear.
Our mouths pull apart, as if sharing the same thought, the same burning question, the same desires. Vann’s eyes seem to ask permission as he stares at me, curious, longing, impatient.
Permission. It’s strange, how just that look in his eyes can ask.
He’d like everyone to believe he’s a bad-ass who respects no boundary, who breaks every rule, who answers to nothing and no one. Yet here he is, letting me into his big house, braving his swimming pool for the first time, and waiting for permission to touch me. Respecting my body. Respecting my wishes. Respecting my asking him to go slow, to take our time, to wait.
No one knows Vann like I do, no matter how everyone acts like they have him all figured out. That fact alone makes me feel like the luckiest, most special guy in the world, to truly know him.
“What did you want to say?” he asks softly.
Water drips from our hair, drawing crystalline lines down our skin. “You mean before I body slammed you into your own pool?”
His cute lips curl up at the corners. “Yeah. Before that.”
“I was just … just going to say that I …” Well, isn’t it obvious? “I have feelings for you, Vann. Strong feelings. And I know all of this started out as just two guys rehearsing for a play … but it means a lot more to me than that.”
“It started before the play.”
I tilt my head. “What?”
Vann’s hands slide around to my hips, finding a comfortable place to rest underwater. I do the same, which has the unintended effect of bringing my face a lot closer to his. “It started when I first saw you,” he tells me, “on the first day of school. Chemistry. I saw you and I thought, well, if this whole school sucks, at least I get to sit next to the cute guy in my chemistry class. Then I discover you all over again in the gym. And …” The darkness intensifies in his coal eyes. “And then I saw Hoyt and those assholes mess with you in the gym. And then again in the cafeteria during lunch. I hated the way they treated you. I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing.”