Page 140 of While You Were Trending

Ginny Rhodes isflirting with me.

I have to swallow twice more before I can speak, and it’s hard to keep my voice steady with her body leaning into mine and her hand on my leg. “My parents used to argue in front of Zander and me fairly regularly. And then they’d apologize to each other and talk through it in front of us too. But my mom—she never argued with anyone outside the house. Not her parents. Not her siblings. Not my dad’s family. The ultimate peacemaker who regularly suppressed her own wants and needs to make everyone around her happy. She can say the hard things to Dad though. And that’s why they had a good relationship. No suppressing things to spare each other’s feelings. Just raw honesty. All the time.”

Ginny leans even harder into me. “That’s why you like when I’m mean to you.”

“Not mean. You’re never mean.” She’s torturing me right now with how close she is, but she’s not mean. I hope. Fuck me, I hope she’s not teasing me. “That’s my idea of a healthy relationship. Not that—that this is a relationship. That kind of relationship. I—I just mean it’s how I am with everyone.”

Her hand tightens on my thigh. “I know. You’re leaving, and we have no reason to be friendly after you’re gone.”

“I—I’d like to be friendly with you.”

“I can’t stop thinking about our kiss,” she confesses.

“Ginny—”

“And how much I liked it and how much I want to be bad, but I don’t want to be bad because you deserve so much more than me wanting you to be bad, butI like you, and I don’t like anyone. I don’t let myself.”

“I don’t mind if you like me.” My voice is hoarse and my dick is straining and my dog is glaring at both of us, still in Ginny’s lap even as she scoots so close that we’re shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, thigh to thigh.

“Is that raw honesty?”

“I want you to like me.”

I want you to love me.

I want you to love me the way I’ve always loved you.

“I want to kiss you again,” she whispers.

“Anything you want, Ginny. Anything.”

Her hand drifts up my thigh, her arm brushing the unmistakable evidence of everything I’m willing to give her.

She licks her lips and studies me. “Will you kiss me again?”

“You’re in charge.”

“Stop me if—if you don’t want to?—”

“I want to.”

Flow whines again, huffs, and leaps off Ginny’s lap.

Ginny smiles that brilliant smile, and it takes every ounce of control I possess to not grab her and kiss her and touch her and take her right here.

“You’re very serious,” she murmurs, trailing her fingers up my wrist, my inner forearm, over my biceps to my shoulder, leaving a trail of electrified goosebumps in her wake.

“I don’t want—to worry—you’ll have regrets,” I force out.

I shiver as her fingers scrape up my neck, her face drifting closer and closer, lips parted, eyes searching mine.

“I’m going to kiss you and try very, very hard to not fall into old habits and regret it.”

“You never have to regret anything about me.”

Her lips brush mine, and I make myself hold very, very still, waiting—hoping—wishing?—

“Kiss me back, please,” she whispers against my mouth.