I don’t know what to say to that, so I say nothing.
“When you go back to school, will you be in the dorm?” He sits down on the other end of the futon. He turns to face me, and his knee brushes mine. I like it, so I inch closer.
“I have an apartment across from campus,” I say. “Dad didn’t want me in the dorm, and I wanted to take Maggie back and forth with me after what happened.” Maggie hears her name and wanders toward me, slipping her nose beneath my hand. I absently rub her head. “I don’t like to be alone at night.”
Pete makes a kissy noise with his mouth, and Maggie wanders toward him. She’s wary, but she’s not afraid. He lets her sniff his hand and touches the top of her head gingerly. She pushes herself into his path, and he scratches behind her ears.
“You trying to win over my dog?” I ask. But secretly, I love that Maggie trusts him. She has good instincts, much better than mine.
“Trying?” he scoffs. “Succeeding,” he says with a grin. Maggie hops up on her back legs to put herself in his lap. He leans back and pats his leg, and she hops up to sit on him, between us. He pets her head. “You look pretty in my hoodie,” he says to me.
My face is probably scarlet, with the way that he’s making my face flush. “Thank you,” I breathe.
“I like the idea that my hoodie has been all over your body while you sleep,” he says. His voice is suddenly gravelly and thick. His gaze lingers on my legs, but he doesn’t reach for me or try to get me to come closer. He just keeps petting my dog, who is all but upside down as she tries to give him her belly.
I swallow hard, my heartbeat thick and heavy. I clear my throat, and he just looks at me from behind hooded lashes.
“So, what do you want to do?” he asks.
Honestly, I want to kiss him. “Is this a date?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “This is me coming to visit you for a few minutes because I wanted to see you and inviting myself to stay for a while.” Maggie flips over, and Pete laughs. “You’re a pushover,” he says to my dog.
“She’s a dangerous beast,” I say with a laugh.
“As long as she protects you, she can be as beastly as she likes.”
“Fine job she’s doing of that right now,” I grumble.
“Dogs like me. Because I’m a good person.” His lids lower, though, and he licks his lips again.
I tug the hoodie lower over my hips. “Stop looking at me like that,” I whisper, my voice cracking.
“I would, if I thought you really wanted me to,” he says. He jerks his head. “Come here,” he says quietly.
I shake my head, but a grin tugs at my lips. “Nope,” I say.
He jerks his head. “Come here,” he says again. “Please?”
I smile at him. I can’t help it. “What do I get if I come over there?” I ask.
“Come here and find out,” he says.
My heart thuds. What should I do? Should I stay? Should I go? I feel like there’s an invisible tether between us, and he gives it a tug when he lifts his hand and crooks his finger at me, beckoning me forward.
I give Maggie a gentle shove to get her off his lap. Because I suddenly want to be there. I want to snuggle against him and wrap myself in his warmth. Maggie hits the floor and blows out a breath as she flops at his feet. And I crawl toward him on my hands and knees.
Pete
One minute, the dog is in my lap, and the next Reagan is heading toward it. She’s so f**king pretty as she crawls across the couch that she takes my breath away. One palm lands on my knee and the other on my thigh. She bites her lower lip between her teeth as she looks up at me. I brush her hair back from her forehead and look at her. I really look at her. She’s trembling. Her hand shakes against my knee, so I cover it with mine. Her eyes meet mine. “I’m all right,” she whispers.
“I know you are,” I say, and I slowly and gently pick her up and flip her over so that her bottom is in my lap, and her legs lie toward the empty end of her futon. I try not to move too fast because this is all so new to her and I know it. “I think I’m the one who’s scared,” I admit, my voice quavering. I clear my throat.
Her brow furrows. “Why?” she whispers. She lays her forearm on my shoulder, and her fingers absently tickle the hair at the back of my neck. I can’t even think when she touches me.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” I say.
Her face flushes, and I can tell she took that the wrong way. A laugh bursts from my throat. “I meant come across the couch toward me, doofy,” I say, and I reach up to tweak her nose. I lean toward her and kiss her quickly on the cheek. “Although,” I say. I have to stop and clear my throat again. I drop my voice down to a whisper. “When you came with my hand in your panties, that surprised me, too.”
Her breaths aren’t falling naturally now. They’re a little more hurried, and her cheeks are all rosy. I run my hand up the outside of her thigh, all the way up her leg because she’s wearing those crazy-tiny little shorty-shorts. “How do you think I felt?” she asks. She laughs, and it’s the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard. I can feel her words against my cheek, she’s that close to me. They’re hot and humid and all Reagan.
I jostle her in my lap with a bump of my knee. “Tell me how you felt,” I prompt. I want to know everything.
Her brow arches. “You mean, when we were doing that?” she asks.