Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
He exhales a relieved breath and presses his forehead against mine. “I was so scared I’d fucked this up too much to fix.”
I curve my hand around the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I made you wait to talk things through.”
“Don’t be. We both needed the time to process.” He pulls back. “Can we talk about what we want this relationship to look like?”
“Yeah. Yes. Absolutely.” My stomach somersaults, but not in a bad way.
“I like sleepovers with you, but I don’t think I can have them every night because when we’re in bed together, I also want to have sex, because it feels good, and the connection is like…addicting,” he admits.
“You’re also not into the quickie at this point, and that makes it really tough to get enough sleep,” I finish for him.
“Exactly! Like maybe in a year, when I’m used to the way sex feels.” He blows out a breath, cheeks flushed. “But I’m not yet.”
“Okay, so no sleepovers before big tests or games, and of course this is open for revisiting every couple of months,” I suggest.
“That sounds smart. Obviously no keeping things from each other,” he adds.
“Agreed. You’re my boyfriend and my best friend, so I want to be able to tell you the truth, even if it scares me.”
“Same. I really love you, Fee.” He laces our fingers. “What do you want to do if I get into one of the programs overseas? Would you want to try to make the long distance work?”
“I would want to try.”
“Okay. Me, too.” He blows out a relieved breath.
“But if either of us is struggling with the distance, we can assess and adjust?” I offer, struggling not to let my fears of the future get between us again.
“Yeah.” His fingers tighten around mine. “I really hope I get into a local program so we can be close this summer.”
“I want that, too,” I agree. “So maybe let’s manifest it?”
“For real.” His thumb sweeps across my knuckles. “What else?”
“We never end a call angry,” I whisper. “Or go to bed angry.”
He brings my hand to his lips. “Never. Life is too precious to end a day in a bad mood.”
“Sometimes my feelings overwhelm me, and I need space to process them. It doesn’t mean I’m upset or angry, and I’ll do my best to make sure you know that,” I admit.
“Is it okay if I still check on you when you’re feeling overwhelmed?” he asks.
“Yeah, of course.” I shift so my knee touches his shin. “What about what you need?”
“Just some patience, I guess? I’ve never been in love before. I’m going to get stuff wrong, but as long as you can be honest with me, and we can talk things through, I think we’ll be okay?”
“I think so, too.”
“Can I hug you now?” Mac asks.
“Yes, please.”
He pulls me into his lap, and I bury my face in his neck and breathe in the comfort of this closeness. We survived our first argument and came out the other side stronger for it.
The calm is interrupted by the buzz of our phones.
Mac groans. “Our friends have realized we’re missing.”
“Seems that way.”
“They’ll be relentless until we come back down, won’t they?”
“Invariably, yes.”
I sigh.
Mac squeezes me, then lets me go. “You’ll sleep over tonight?”
“Ten out of ten, yes.”
“We’ll indulge them for like half an hour, then we can come back up here, and I can love you until we’re too tired to keep our eyes open?” he asks.
“Again, ten out of ten.”
“Then let’s do what we must,” he sighs, then grins.
We wrap my cake so it doesn’t get stale and put it in Mac's fridge, then head back to our friends. We hang out in the kitchen for a while, but Cammie is happy drunk and wants to dance, which means I get pulled into the middle of the living room. Chase and Mac join us.
Cammie and Chase get lost in their own little world, bodies pressed together, his lips at her ear, a smile tipping the corner of her mouth. Mac moves in behind me, arm wrapped around my waist as his hips sway with mine. I lift one arm and curve my hand around the back of his neck, tipping my head slightly. His hair tickles my cheek as he lightly drags his lips up the column of my throat. “We’re going back upstairs soon,” Mac murmurs.
“When this song ends,” I agree.
The front door bursts open and Gage walks in, rolling two bright pink suitcases behind him. A girl I recognize from movie night follows on his heels. She too is laden with bags.
“A little help here, guys,” Gage demands.
The music stops, and Mac and Brody rush in to take a bag from the girl.
She looks slightly horrified, and tired, and overwhelmed.
“Everyone, this is Andie, my sister’s best friend. Andie, this is everyone. Those two who just took your bags are Brody and Mac. They’re your new roommates. Guys, Andie’s moving into my closet.”