I couldn’t figure out how it could feel so right and still be wrong.
You’re the last person he’d date.
I broke away, laid a hand on his chest. “Tyler …”
His thumb grazed my collarbone, and I hung my free hand on his forearm. “What?”
“I … I don’t know if this is right.”
Worry passed across his face, furrowing his brows. “What do you mean?”
“I mean … we’re so different.” I struggled to find the words. “We come from different places, different worlds. I’ve never been with anyone like you before.”
“I’ve never been with anyone like you, either.” He smiled, thumb shifting against my skin. “And I feel more at home than I have in a long time.”
I shook my head, unwilling to let myself believe it was true, repeating Kyle’s words aloud. “I’m the last person you’d usually date.”
“And that’s my mistake. I’ve been looking in the wrong place all along.” His eyes searched mine. “What’s this really about, Cam?”
“What if tomorrow, whatever this is between us is gone? What if it’s just … I don’t know. A mirage. What if you’re just drunk on me? What if when you sober up you don’t want me anymore?”
“And what if it’s not? Do you think I’m not sincere? Don’t you trust me?”
I squeezed his arm. “Of course I trust you, but I’m not your type. I’m not the girl who can rub elbows with important people or get along with guys like Kyle just because I have to. I’m not the girl with mile-long legs and a closet full of designer dresses who spends her nights going to parties and clubs.”
He frowned. “None of that means anything to me.”
But I just kept talking. “I’m not the popular girl. I’m not the cheerleader, and that’s who guys like you end up with, not the drama girls or the band nerds.”
“Cam—”
“No. I’m not the kind of girl you normally go after, and I think that’s a sign that this isn’t right for you. I don’t want you to wake up one day wondering how you got stuck with someone like me.”
His brow dropped, and his eyes, hard and fiery, pierced my heart. “Cam, listen to me. There are no cheerleaders or popular girls. There is no right or wrong. There’s just you and me. Part of the reason why I want you is because you’re not like the other girls I’ve dated. You’re exactly who you are, and that’s exactly why I want to be with you.”
I took a shaky breath. “Why won’t you just let me break up with you?”
“Kiss me.”
I sighed, chest aching. “Tyler—”
“I mean it. Kiss me. If you don’t feel it, if you don’t want me, then walk away. But don’t walk away because of some presumption about how I feel.” Fear and pain flitted behind his eyes. “Kiss me, Cam, and tell me if you still want me.”
“All right,” I said softly, my pulse quickening. His hand tightened in the curve of my neck, his fingers in my hair, and I leaned in, closing my eyes.
My lips connected with his without needing to see — they could have found him in the dark or a thousand miles away. I breathed him in, slipped my tongue into his mouth, and he let me in. He let me kiss him without prompting, without guiding me, just let me lead on my own. But I didn’t need any convincing from him. I let my heart go, and it took over. My hands were in his hair. His hands were around my waist. I was in his lap. And I didn’t want it to end.
When I finally broke away, my eyelids were heavy, and I looked up at him, knowing it wouldn’t be easy to walk away from him, and I couldn’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I just hoped he didn’t end up walking away from me.
I lay cradled in his arms and touched his cheek, feeling the slight scratch of stubble over his hard jaw. “I still want you,” I whispered, unable to deny it.
And he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to mine. “Then don’t fight it. I’m yours.”
Clark Kent Never Wins
Tyler
I tightened my arms to bring her as close as I could to kiss again, this time taking her lips like she’d taken mine, trying with everything in me to ease her mind.
I hated that she wasn’t certain. That she didn’t feel right. Because I did. I felt so right about her that it was an absolute truth, she and I, and undeniable fact of the universe. I’d do whatever it took to convince her I was serious about her, that it wasn’t a passing feeling for me.
But even then I knew there was only so much I could do. If she didn’t get out of her own head, we could be doomed.
I tried not to think about that.
Instead, I thought about the sweetness of her lips, her fingers in my hair, her small body against mine. And just like the night before, we kissed for what felt like minutes or hours, until our bodies were heavy and lips swollen. When I broke away, she looked at me with hooded eyes.
“Can we go to bed?” she asked, her voice rough.
“Whatever you want, Cam.”
I kissed her again to punctuate the promise, and when she sat up with a sigh and climbed off the couch, I felt the loss of her warmth like an omen. But I made my way to my bedroom to change, meeting her in the bathroom where we brushed our teeth like we had a million times before.
But now, it was different. I watched her in the mirror as I scrubbed my teeth and she tied back her hair and picked up her toothbrush. Her T-shirt was small, maybe even a kid’s shirt, with an illustration of Gambit on the front flicking the ace of hearts. She didn’t have on a bra — I couldn’t help but notice the curve of her breasts, shifting slightly as she brushed. When she bent over the sink, my eyes found the swell of her ass in tiny black sleep shorts, and I marveled that anyone could make something so mundane as brushing their teeth so sexy.