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And if I did kiss Adam, then what?
It was an easy answer. Someone could walk in and see us, locking lips, and there would be a conversation about it. The RAs in my building were warned about doing anything with athletes. And Adam having up a good profile didn’t mean making out with the girl who was supposed to keep him on the straight and narrow.
It was messy. It wasn’t a good idea.
But…it was so tempting.
What if I kissed him and felt absolutely nothing? The shock on his face. I could picture it, him telling me I didn’t know what real kissing was or some nonsense, and it’d become a running joke between us.
The other possibility wouldn’t be a joke. It was downright terrifying.
What if I felt something?
Something more than the butterflies that fluttered in my stomach when we studied together at Gianna’s. Something more than the hitch in my breath when he looped his fingers along the underside of my jacket and tugged me forward, zipping it up for me. Something more than the way I knew it was him walking down the hallway towards one of my meetings without even seeing him just from the sound of his footsteps.
I didn’t know what was going to happen. I had no idea.
Which is weird because I knew him so well, but the idea of kissing him was a mysterious, foreign thing just out of my reach. And in that weird pit of unknowing, I couldn’t deny one thing.
I wanted to find out.
Adam’s words from the shower came back to me. I lived my life by all these little rules and if I just stopped doing that and experienced things for a change…that was the college life I was looking for.
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Okay?” He shifted up on the couch. His voice dipped low, a couple of octaves lower than usual. “Okay.”
My heart hammered in my chest as Adam lifted his right hand. The enormous hand that engulfed mine and could catch a football flying through the air, no problem.
I waited for him to do something. To make the first move. That was part of the rules, wasn’t it? He asked, he had to make the move. But Adam was slower with his touches than I expected. He swept my hair over my shoulder.
Goosebumps rose on my skin.
My heart slowed, a drawn-out rhythm, as Adam cupped my cheek, running his fingertips along my jaw. He knew how to touch me. Of course he did. He’d touched a bazillion girls, and a bazillion more after those, but it was hard to think about that with him leaning in closer, his dark eyes on my lips.
We’d been close to each other like this before. But not really. Not like this.
His cool breath washed over me, and my lips parted by instinct alone. There was a pounding in my ears, keeping in time with my heartbeat. And the way his hand moved along my skin sent heat pooling between my legs.
Adam brushed his lips against mine.
Oh my god.
Fire lined everywhere he touched and I stopped breathing entirely while he kissed me, deliciously long, moving his lips against mine. And then, it was done, and I felt like I’d been submerged in water and tossed out of an airplane altogether as I gingerly pulled back a few inches, panting.
He tightened his hold on the side of my face.
“Piper,” he rasped and brought me back to him, crashing his lips against mine.
Sparks didn’t fly, they imploded.
A shudder rose in my throat, completely out of my control, and his hand slipped to my hair, squeezing the strands tight between his fingers, tilting my head back further to deepen the kiss to a real one. It melted into another and another.
I’d never, ever, ever been kissed like that.
It was supposed to be one kiss, it couldn’t be. Not with the way he yanked me forward, kissing me until my head spun. My hands flew to his shirt, wrapping in the fabric, while his other hand went to my hip, touching the few inches of exposed skin under my shirt.
I could taste how much he wanted me.
