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God, enough of waiting for them to do or say something. Enough. I need to act.
West walks me to the bus stop, quiet and brooding. I take in his beautiful profile, the strong set of his shoulders, and draw a deep breath.
Then I rise on tiptoe, put my hands on his chest for balance and plant a kiss on his cheek. “There.”
He blinks at me, those pretty blue eyes confused. “What?”
“You don’t get to shut me out,” I inform him. “Not like Nate tried to do. I won’t let you.”
He’s staring at me.
“I care for you,” I say, and my throat clogs up. “If it’s because of what we did, if you don’t want it, that’s okay. But please don’t shut me out.”
“Syd…” He hauls me into his arms, and it feels so good that I have to swallow a sob. “It’s not that. I just… I’m not sure what you want from me.”
“I want…” I press my cheek to his chest and listen to his heartbeat, heavier than Kash’s, inhale his scent of soap and pine and peppery sweat. So uniquely West. “I want you.”
He kisses me. His kiss is hot, and hard, and it lights me up. My arms wind around his neck and he backs me up a few steps, his mouth chasing mine, his tongue thrusting against my tongue, making me moan.
The press of his body on mine, the scrape of his stubble on my skin, his hands on my back, his mouth, his taste… I’m burning, and throbbing between my legs. I’m wet. Dripping wet and hot all over.
Holy shit. Just from this.
When he draws back, I’m panting, and so is he. His gaze locks with mine, his pupils blown wide. “Syd…”
The bus arrives. Other students are staring at us, some giggling and pointing as they start to climb inside. And all the while in the back of my head, a voice is screaming that I’m messing this up more than I already have, instead of fixing it.
“What are we doing?” West whispers.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, even as the ache between my legs is so maddening I want to rub my thighs together, ease the pressure.
“Me neither,” he admits. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing with you, but I just can’t stop. I don’t wanna stop, Syd. Sometimes…” He rubs a hand over his face.
“Yes?”
“Sometimes you’re the only light in my world.” He says it so softly. So seriously. It scares me. And it makes me giddy.
My heart is racing as I take his hand. “Let me help you.”
He says nothing, mouth tightening.
“Please, West.”
This time he gives a curt nod. “Fine.”
“Will you tell me how things at home are?”
“I will.”
“Promise to tell me if I can help?”
He breathes in. “Sure
.” He stares down at our linked hands, then up, into my eyes. There’s a question there, but I don’t have the answer.
I don’t have any answers at all.
Nate’s door is closed when I arrive home in the night. After my shift at the ice cream parlor, I got a babysitting gig looking after two cute girls, but by the time I make it back, it’s kinda late.
