“You can see?” I asked incredulously, searching her eyes. “It’s gone?”
She shrugged, like it was no big thing. “Yeah,” she murmured, her lips tipping up in the corners. “It’s gone.”
We stared at each other wide eyed for a long moment, and then I was yelling, my arms around her waist as I lifted her up and swung her around.
“No shit?” I asked again, still holding her as I came to a stop.
“No shit,” she confirmed, her smile huge.
I grinned and leaned back a little to get a better look at that smile, and that’s when I fully noticed her hands, cool and soft on my shoulders. My bare shoulders. It wouldn’t have been such a big fucking deal, I went without a shirt for most of the summer and I was sure she’d touched me before, but my hands were also on her, so low on her back they were practically wrapped around her hips.
Our torsos were pressed together like pieces of a goddamn puzzle.
“That’s good news,” I said quietly, trying to get my shit together. I didn’t know whether I should shove her away or try to act like neither of us was noticing that within seconds, our friendship had turned into something far different.
“I told Tommy not to tell you while you guys were gone,” she said, her voice losing volume, too. “I wanted to tell you myself.”
“So happy for you, Dandelion,” I replied.
Her hand barely moved at first, just barely twitched, but then it was sliding up my shoulder to my neck, and wrapping around the side of it.
“Not a good idea,” I murmured. I didn’t move, though. I should have fucking moved.
“I knew you were being a pussy,” she said, ignoring my warning. “Back when I felt your scar, I knew it wasn’t as bad as you thought.”
I could feel my heartbeat in the base of my fucking throat as she reached up and drew one fingertip down the line of my scar.
“It’s barely anything,” she whispered, shaking her head like she thought I was an idiot.
I wished I could blame it on booze, but I’d only had one beer. And I wished I could blame it on exhaustion, but it was only two in the afternoon. I had no excuses. None.
There was no excuse for the way I’d reached down and grabbed her ass, boosting her up so she could wrap her legs around my waist. There was no excuse for the way I’d gone after her mouth, sliding my tongue inside without any preliminaries, and biting at her lip as she whimpered. There was no excuse for the way I’d carried her into my room and slammed the door behind me, or the way I’d pressed her up against the wall and proceeded to grind against her as she rolled her hips and scored her nails down my back.
I don’t know if it was common sense or the sound of someone laughing outside my door that finally knocked me back into reality, but as soon as it hit, I almost dropped her to the floor in my haste to get away. Her hair was messy and she was breathing heavy and she was fucking gorgeous, but she was also seventeen years old.
I’d always assumed I’d die young, but I’d never imagined that it would be my own brothers who’d kill me. Looking at her flushed face as she tried to figure out why I’d stopped, I realized that being killed by my own was now a distinct possibility.
“You gotta get outta here,” I said, glancing at the door behind her.
“What?” she asked as she looked around in confusion.
“You gotta get outta my room. Now.” I reached past her and swung open the door, quickly checking to make sure the hallway was still empty.
“What the hell, Leo?” she said as I used a hand on the small of her back to practically shove her out the door.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I replied. “Give me one minute.”
I slammed the door in her face and strode to my dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt so I could get dressed.
I’d fucked up royally. In five years, things might be different if I was super fucking lucky. I’d lost my virginity to her older sister, which was all sorts of fucked up, no matter how you looked at it, and I knew her dad and brother would never be happy if I tried to get in with their little princess. Hell, they’d been less than pleased when I’d got with Cecilia, and that was a completely different scenario. We’d been the same age, had grown up together, and they’d known that Cecilia was going to do whatever the fuck she wanted, no matter what they thought.
Lily was different, so different. She was a genius, had colleges knocking on her door even when she’d been blind, and treated everyone like they were her best friend. She was sweet, bone deep sweet. I knew that if I ever had a chance with her, I’d have to think long and hard about what that would mean. Lily wasn’t ever going to be a woman you banged for a couple of months before moving on. She was old lady material, a woman you protected any way you could.