My place is on the other side of campus from where she lives. We walk a block past bungalow houses, their lawns immaculate, their front pillars and covered porches swept clean and pristine. We head onto campus where the street lights are always on and the spotlights on the building make the white columns almost shine. She walks closer against me and I slide my hand into hers, pulling her close. She looks up at me, a little surprise in her eyes.
“We probably shouldn’t on campus,” she says, her voice low.
I look around and don’t see anyone at all. “It’s fine,” I say. “I’m not wearing my uniform, and it’s late anyway.”
She bites her lip. “You sort of like that this is a little…”
“Forbidden?” I laugh. “Maybe I do. I think you sort of like it too.”
“Maybe I do,” she agrees.
I slow down and pull her hand, tugging her against me. She stares up into my eyes and my hands move onto her lower back, pulling her tight against me. She lets out a little gasp as I move us both behind a set of bushes tucked into the corner of the science building. I press my lips against her and kiss her, letting my tongue slide against hers, taking the kiss deep and passionate.
She moans into that kiss, and I feel a thrill of passion run through me. She’s right, this is forbidden, this is a risk. If someone spots us, if anyone realizes that the assistant coach of the football program is kissing a student on campus, there’s going to be hell to pay.
But I don’t think I care. Right now, there’s only her, only Chloe. She’s too goddamn gorgeous for me to hold back.
The kiss breaks off and she bites her lip. “I knew it,” she says.
“What?”
“I knew you’d be a good kisser.”
I laugh softly. I reach up and take a fist of her hair, pulling her head back. I kiss her neck gently. “Darling, I’m good at everything.” I kiss her again, bite her lower lip, then let her go. She stands there, blinking at me, and takes my offered hand.
We resume our walk. I lead her down a side path, both of us quiet. I suspect she’s digesting what just happened, just like I am, as we turn off campus again and head toward her apartment. I lead her across the street, along the block with all the retail stores, and stop in front of her door. The smell of fast food wafts onto the sidewalk and she turns to me, head tilted.
“Thanks for dinner,” she says.
“We’ll do it again.”
She nods. “Yeah, right, okay.”
“And if you hear from Erik. Or anything seems off…”
“I’ll call you.”
“Good.”
I hesitate, but I don’t kiss her. I don’t want to risk it right outside her place. I turn away and leave her there without another word.
Fuck, her taste still lingers on my lips though. She’s delicious, and that tight body is screaming for me to feel her. It’s hard to hold back, especially when she looks so good, but I know I need to take it slow.
Things are complicated.
But maybe complicated isn’t so bad, not if it still feels like this.6ChloeSeveral days pass and I fall back into my routine. The only difference is I keep texting back and forth with David. We don’t see each other because the season is starting to ramp up and he’s busy with practice and preparing for the first game of the year next weekend, but I’m still thinking about the way he kissed me, the way he touched me.
“What are you smiling about?” Sara asks me one night. I’m lounging on the couch in sweats and a t-shirt, holding my phone up to my nose and grinning like a moron.
“Nothing,” I say, switching out of the messaging app.
“Liar.” She flops down on the chair next to the couch and kicks her feet up onto the coffee table. She has a thick textbook in her hands, something about the Civil War. “I can tell you’re texting someone.”
“It’s nothing, seriously.”
She rolls her eyes. “Come on. You’ve been so mysterious lately. Ever since that thing with the paper.”
I give her a look. “I keep telling you, that was just some dickhead, but it’s cleared up now.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” She hesitates. “I’m just concerned, is all.”
“Well, don’t be. I’m fine. And I’m not texting anyone important.”
“You’re totally lying but whatever.” She laughs and stretches. “Oh my god, I swear, if I have to read about one more battle, I’m going to poke my eyes out.”
“You’re a history major, don’t you love battles?”
“Hell no,” she says. “I’m into the politics. Give me some long-winded political speeches and I’ll pull out all that subtext like ribbons. But these battle scenes are just like fingernails on a chalkboard to me.”