“Fine, I’ll bite—”
“Oh, thank God,” he moans and I giggle, my cheeks burning with not only embarrassment but need, too.
“Goodness me. I mean, where?”
“You’ll see, but you have to agree.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Say yes.”
“Fine, yes.”
“Awesome, cool, so yeah.” He pauses awkwardly which I think is so stinking cute, and I’m breathless as silence comes over the line. “So, not to sound like a complete stalker loser, like Markus has been calling me, but I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
Grinning, I press my lips together as giddiness washes over me. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“I guess I’m supposed to say the same, huh?”
“It would be nice if I wasn’t the only stalker here.”
That makes me laugh, and soon he is laughing with me. “Yeah, you’re not.”
“Cool.”
“Cool.” I open my eyes, looking at the ceiling, unsure what the hell is going on. Why are we so ridiculously cute and awkward? We had sex all night and morning. I shouldn’t be self-conscious, but I am. Along with giddy and unable to stop smiling. What does that even mean? “What are you doing to me?”
I can hear his smile in his voice as it drops an octave. “Nothing yet.”
“Jace, you know what I mean. I feel all schoolgirl-like.”
“Good, ’cause I feel like a kid going through puberty talking to my crush.”
“So you’re crushing?”
“Oh, yeah. Hard.”
“How hard?” I ask to lighten the moment because he is getting deep and I can’t handle it. He can’t be this into me, can he? I’ve spent so long thinking I was nothing, but he makes me feel like something. Then I can’t help but feel like I’m in deep. Which cannot happen. Not yet. I just met him. And I want fun! I don’t want something serious.
“Really hard, and don’t act like you aren’t crushing either.”
“Never said I wasn’t.”
“Didn’t confirm it either.”
“Well, maybe I don’t word vomit like you do.”
“No, you just write hot-ass songs about me to show how you feel.”
“You’re full of yourself,” I accuse and he laughs.
“Fine, keep it under lock. I’ll find that key.” He probably didn’t mean it to be suggestive, but it is and I’m almost speechless as I bite my lip.
“I hope you do.”
“I will.”