Trixsters Anonymous

“… Maren finally told the truth. It was Emi who mixed the Kool-Aid to dye their hair purple…”

“We were trying to make a video to send to Prince!”

“…her high school science teacher threatened to fail her because she led a riot.”

“It wasn’t a riot. I didn’t want to dissect a pig!”

We pull into the driveway, and my dad cuts off the car, spinning to face me with a wide smile.

“You guys wonder why I’ve never brought anyone home before?”

“We’re having a little fun.”

“Who’s having fun?”

“We are,” they say at the same time Walker laughs.

“Is the fun over now?”

“Don’t be a poor sport.” Mom pats the top of my hand before getting out.

We all do the same, me pouting the whole way inside the house. My parents announce they’re going to change before they disappear down the hall. I drop my purse on the dining table and start to yank off my shoes.

“Come here.” Walker opens his arms.

I step forward, and in a flash, he’s hauled me into his body, clasping my wrists, with my arms pinned behind my back. His eyes have turned a deep shade of blue I’ve never seen before, piercing into my own. He drops his mouth to hover over mine. “You are so fucking beautiful. Shane was an idiot, even at nine years old. I’d have jumped on the chance to be your boyfriend. I’d never run away if you tried to kiss me. You’d look just as gorgeous with purple hair, and dissecting pigs isn’t fun.”

The words dissolve most of my embarrassment from earlier.

I forget all about my parents and melt into him, sweeping my tongue over his lips. “I love you,” slips out with no hesitancy.

His blazing eyes hold mine for a split second before he crashes his mouth down.

This is unlike any kiss we’ve ever shared. His mouth moves frantically against mine, his tongue sliding along the curve of the roof of my mouth, then delves deeper. My wrists are freed as he frames my face and holds me gently in place. He slowly retreats, scraping my bottom lip with his teeth and allowing me a breath before his tongue finds mine again.

Shamelessly, I clutch his shirt, my knees threatening to buckle. A moan bubbles up from my throat, followed by his own groan of approval. Every thrust and swirl of his tongue against mine sends a shooting sensation through my body. I try my best to keep up, but finally relent, giving him all control.

He kisses me with urgency, then slows, slanting my head to the right and taking his time to run his lips and tongue along the outline of my mouth. I grow dizzy with lust, clenching tighter until my nails dig into his skin through the soft material. My whole body hums with desire, heat scorching through my veins. His hips hit mine, the hardened length of his erection sliding against my stomach.

“Say it again,” he says in the voice he knows drives me insane.

“I love you,” I mutter into his mouth, barely understandable.

He withdraws, holding me in place and pinning me with his eyes. No words are spoken as he lays his forehead against mine.

We stay like this, neither of us breaking the gaze. My heart is speeding in my chest, waiting for him to say something.

When he doesn’t, a knot forms in my stomach.

What have I done?

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”

“I’m—” I don’t get to finish before his phone rings.

“Shit.” He reaches in his pocket, keeping our faces close.

“Scott,” he barks, and I hear a mumbling on the line.