I check out the photo. “You do. I can see it, but not very well.”
“I’ll wear a darker one next time,” she murmurs, her voice loaded with promise.
“You want to do this again?”
“There are lots of things I want to do with you.” I see the emotion shining in her eyes, and I realize this is my moment. I need to be open with this girl, and tell her how I feel.
“I want to do a lot of things with you too.” I pull her into my arms, just holding her. “You know I care about you, right?”
She blinks up at me. “You do?”
“Well, yeah. I—don’t do relationships. Not normally. My parents…” My voice drifts and she waits patiently for me to continue. “They aren’t the best example. There wasn’t a lot of love in my house growing up. Just money.”
Always money.
“We’re not our parents,” she murmurs, and I wonder if she’s thinking of her own.
“Yeah, but they influence us, and how we act. My dad was—is—such a controlling prick. He’s not a nice person.” That’s putting it mildly.
“You are though.” When I start to argue she shakes her head, and I go quiet. “You are. You’re sweet and kind. With me.”
“That’s because I like you.” Those words don’t seem big enough for how I really feel about Wren. It’s more than like. Or care. It’s…
I don’t want to put a label on it. Not yet.
“Then I guess I should feel honored.” She laughs, the sound soft.
Sexy.
I don’t answer her. Instead, I kiss her until she’s out of breath, my tongue doing a thorough search of her delectable mouth. Fuck, I can’t get enough of her. This feeling is so overwhelming, it almost fucking hurts.
Even worse? The thought of losing her. That’s downright unbearable to even imagine.
When she pulls away, she smiles, thrusting her phone in between us and taking a photo of me.
“What the fuck, Birdy?”
She’s already opening up the photo, smiling. “Your lips are covered in gloss.”
When she shows me the photo on her phone, all I see is a lust-filled idiot who’s left in a daze by the girl who just kissed him. “I look stupid.”
“More like stupid hot.” She tosses the phone on the bed, smiling up at me. “Thank you for indulging me and my little project.”
“Are you done?”
“I think so,” she says shyly.
“Good.” I lean in closer, stealing a kiss. Then another. “Because now it’s my turn.”