The Freshman (College Years 1)

“He didn’t think it was a good idea.”

“I’m sure he didn’t.” He reaches for me. Tugs on the ends of my hair, skims his fingers down the length of my

arm. I shiver at his touch, my lids lowering and I tilt my face up in an unspoken gesture.

Kiss me.

He doesn’t answer in the way I want, but he doesn’t stop touching me either, so that’s promising.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” I whisper. “I’m sorry you had to hear it from someone else.”

“I forgive you,” he says, pressing his body more firmly against mine. “Caleb gave me good advice.”

I blink up at him. “Excuse me? Caleb?”

He nods. Chuckles. “Can you believe it? He was so fucking logical, it was almost scary.”

Giving in, I rest my hands on his warm chest, the T-shirt fabric soft beneath my fingertips. “I can’t believe it.”

“I couldn’t either, but it’s true. He helped me see the light.” His expression turns serious. “He told me I should fight for you. Argue with you for a little bit. Show you that I care.”

“I thought you didn’t like to argue.” It was one of things we agreed on, during a late-night talk while wrapped up in each other in his bed.

“I don’t. But he reminded me the best things are always worth fighting for.” He cups my cheek. Tilts my head back and leans in.

And presses his lips to mine.

I melt against him, our mouths opening, tongues tangling. Our lips connect. Break apart. Connect again. The sound amplified in the quiet stillness of my apartment. He wraps his arm around my waist, hauling my lower body against his and I can feel his erection.

It’s so good, I almost want to cry. And I never want to cry.

Like, ever.

“I like you,” I murmur against his lips at one point during the endless kiss we’re sharing. “I like you a lot.”

I can feel his full lips curve into a smile. “I like you too.”

“Can I admit something?” I run my hands up his chest, circling my arms around his neck, so I can bury my fingers in his hair.

“You can tell me anything,” he says.

“I was scared I was going to lose you,” I confess, tightening my hold on him. “And I couldn’t imagine what tomorrow would be like, if I couldn’t talk to you. See you. Touch you.”

“Guess you don’t have to worry about that,” he says before he kisses me deep. “You’re stuck with me.”

“I’m not complaining,” I say with a laugh, our mouths fusing.

At the same exact time, my stomach growls. Loudly.

“Sounds like your stomach is complaining,” Tony says against my lips.

I still haven’t really eaten anything. And now that my nerves are gone, my stomach is ready to be fed. “I’m starving.”

He lifts his head away from mine. “Let’s go grab something.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He smiles. “Let’s go to that taco truck near Strummers.”