When I arrived at her place, all of the lights were off.
I bit my lip, then moved around to the side of the house where I knew Perry’s window was.
Picking up a fallen acorn, I tossed it at her window.
Nothing happened.
I tossed another. And another. And another.
Until finally her light flicked on, and she parted the curtains.
I knew that she couldn’t see me from where she was standing, so I pulled out my phone and sent her a text.
Banner: it’s me.
She opened the window moments later, leaning half out of it as she said, “What the hell?”
I grinned wickedly.
“Back up, I want to come in,” I whispered.
She did, and I took a running leap, catching the lip of the window and hauling myself up.
She blinked at me and bit her lip as she backed away from the window, watching as I moved the rest of the way inside, before bouncing lightly on my feet on her carpeting.
Her mouth gaped as she stared at me.
“Wow,” she said. “That was… impressive.”
I winked at her, turned, and closed the window quietly.
Once the curtains were back in place, I turned to survey her.
She was in a long t-shirt and nothing else.
I instantly felt my dick get hard.
Gesturing toward the bed, I said, “Did I wake you?”
She shook her head. “No.”
I walked over to her door, clicked the lock into place, then turned back to her before stripping off the sweatshirt I was wearing.
Her breathing hitched.
I ignored it—or tried to—and slipped off my shoes next.
She watched me and didn’t move a muscle until I was sliding into her bed.
It was a twin, meaning the moment that I laid down, my feet hung off the end.
It didn’t matter, though.
Not when she followed me, scrambling under the covers and reaching over to flick off her lamp.
The moment that she was in the bed and not moving an inch, I grinned and then tugged her toward me.
She stiffened at the contact but just as quickly relaxed.
I didn’t call her on her message earlier.
Instead I said, “Your dad’s going to kill me.”
“My dad has a sleep apnea machine. He couldn’t hear a tornado coming, let alone a boy breaking into my room,” she teased. “And my mother sleeps right beside him, so she doesn’t hear anything, either.”
“Need an alarm,” I murmured. “So people like me don’t sneak into his daughter’s bed.”
She snickered and moved just a little bit closer. Not actually touching, but still far enough away that I didn’t like it.
Moving myself, I rolled over until her knees pressed into my legs, and her shoulder was lightly pressing against my sternum. My face was only a few inches from hers, and I could feel her breath on my bare neck.
Her breath hitched, and she turned over as well, once again not touching, but close enough that she could if she breathed in deeply enough.
Everything inside of me ached to pull her in closer, but I didn’t want to push her too hard too fast.
I relaxed into her pillows, bringing the one I was using up to rest underneath my head but between my arm and the bed.
“You never told me why you were here,” she breathed.
I licked my lips, wishing that I could kiss her and not scare her off.
I wasn’t a virgin.
I’d like to say I was—which I assumed Perry was—but I’d been a horny teenage boy for years now. Needless to say, when the opportunity had presented itself, I’d taken it.
But now, I wanted to do this right. I wanted Perry to want me. I didn’t want to push her.
And I had a feeling that Perry was different. That this thing that I was feeling for Perry was way different than anything that I’d ever felt before in my life.
Something like what my parents had. What my sister and brother had.
She exhaled again, this time moving infinitesimally closer to me as she readjusted her own pillow.
I grinned when I felt her hand brush against my chest.
She didn’t move it away, nor did I.
And, over the next five minutes, with no talking on either one of our parts, she moved closer and closer until we were touching from shoulder to feet.
Finally, when I felt that she could get no closer, I wrapped my arm around her waist and turned so that I was on my back and she was laying against my side.
She inhaled against my shoulder, her lips pressing against an old football injury scar there, and stayed still while I repositioned us.
When we came to a stop, she was practically laying half on top of me, my leg crooked up and to the side between hers. Her hand was on my belly, right above my belly button. And her head was resting on my chest, right under my chin.
Her hand moved up to rest just above my ribcage, right under my pec.