3:AM Kisses (16 page)

“What’s up, chica?” Laney pulls out a seat for me, and I plop down between them. “You on tonight?”

“No, but I’ll be hanging with the boss does that count?” I bite down on my lip and watch as their faces ignite like street lamps. Clearly we’ve treaded into the red-light district, so already I know where this conversation is headed.

They break out in a choir of
oohs,
and I blush at the thought of what might happen tonight.

“Someone at this table dated her b-o-s-s once.” Roxy glances at Laney, and they have a mini standoff complete with a silent argument.

“Did you date Bryson?” My hand flies to my chest in horror. I like Laney and the last thing I want to do is imagine her naked while wrestling with my boyfriend.
Boyfriend
. I swoon into the idea.

“No!” She shakes her head, and her dark hair whips around in the wind. “Not
that
boss—another boss. It turns out he wasn’t really my anything.” She lowers her gaze to the table.

“It was my brother,” Roxy offers. “And it ended badly.” She says that last part so low I hardly heard it. “So where’s the big date?” Roxy bears into me, changing the subject rather efficiently.

“It’s sort of a weekend thing.” I shrug. “He’s taking me to his house.”

“Shut up.” Laney straightens. Her mouth falls open as if I’d just announced we were planning to elope.

“
Yes
.” I nod incredulously. “He was going home, and he just sort of invited me to come along. Plus, this way, we can keep things under the radar just a little bit longer.” I filled them in earlier in the week about our plan to keep Cole in the dark until we’re ready. Bryson is still convinced he won’t see the next day once we tell him. Of course, he’s right. In fact, if Cole finds out, my newfound boyfriend is as good as dead. Cole is pretty focused on keeping my virginity intact for the next fifty years or so, never mind the fact he’s nothing more than a human dildo to the female population of Whitney Briggs. I bet all the sorority girls say,
why bother with batteries when you can bed Cole Brighton? He’s the Eveready penis!

“So where does your brother think you’re going?” Roxy gives a coy smile as if she were proud of my dubious endeavor.

“Pluto,” I tease. “A.k.a.—
book
camp.” I shake my head at the literary lunacy of it all. “It was all I could think of that he might remotely approve of. Little does he know my book boyfriend just morphed into the real deal, and his name happens to be Bryson Orgasm-on-Demand Edwards.”

The two of them break out in cackles.

“
Book
camp!” Roxy sighs. “Is there such a thing?”

“No clue. But, if there’s not, there should be. It sounds like a great cover for just about any story—get it? Story?” They groan in unison.

“Baya”—Laney leans in—“Bryson is taking you to his house, to meet his
family
. This is really a big step for him.” Her pale skin glows against the backdrop of the late afternoon. It’s been getting dark so early. It feels like midnight by four o’clock. It’s exhausting and hauntingly erotic all at the same time.

“It’s a big step for me, too.” Not that I’ll be volunteering to haul him to Texas anytime soon. I’m pretty sure Mom would string him up by the balls if he even looked at me in a sexual manner. “I mean we’ll be with his family, so it’ll practically be a platonic weekend.”

“Platonic? I’m pretty sure that’s not in his lexicon. So—what
are
the sleeping arrangements, anyway?” Roxy narrows in on me as she cuts to the nocturnal chase.

Sleeping arrangements? That sweet spot between my thighs spasms at the thought of sleeping under the same roof, let alone the same
bed,
as Bryson. I wonder if one can have too many orgasms, and how exactly I might explain this to the ER staff once I can’t stop convulsing with pleasure.

“Like I said, his mom will be there, so we’ll probably sleep in separate rooms. I’ll probably crash on the couch. God knows I’m used to it.”
God
what if she’s one of those liberal moms who totally roots for her kids to hook up under her roof? What if she’s out right now buying candles and specialty condoms that light up just to make the occasion oh so special? I shake the thought out of my head. My mother would be stocking up on pepper spray and stun guns—a rape whistle and a club.

“When there’s a hard-on, there’s a way.” Laney nods into her hormonal theory. “He wants you.” She takes a sip of her drink. “
Bad
.”

“So have you done it yet?” Roxy crinkles her nose as she awaits my salacious response.

“No, we haven’t done
it
, so I’m pretty sure our first time won’t be with his mom in the next room listening to the headboard rattle. That’s one of the reasons I’m dying to get away from Cole’s apartment. I’m so sick of listening to him wallop his trollops night after night. You’d think the neighbors would have called the swat team by now the way it sounds like machine gun fire is exploding from his bedroom. It’s like a hostage situation in there or a really loud marathon of Scar Face going on, but the only one getting scarred around there is me—
emotionally
.”

Laney spits her coffee just past my shoulder.

“Sorry!” She gags out a laugh. “It’s just that the visual was too amusing.” She sops up the mess she made. “I’ve been to the Edwards house—more like estate.” She lowers her lashes at me. “It’s pretty big. There are an awful lot of places and spaces someone could run off to if they wanted. Are you scared?”

“Why would she be scared?” Roxy sticks her pen between her teeth a moment. “Oh my, God—you’re a virgin!”

“Shh!” I bounce a few inches in my seat. “No need to pull out the mega phone. It’s not a big deal. I was just waiting for the right person, that’s all.” I give a shy smile. “And, lucky me, because I found him.”

“
Aww!
” They sing in unison.

“Baya!” A male voice booms across the courtyard, and Bryson waves with that ridiculously gorgeous smile. My girl parts and I sigh in unison.

“That’s my ride.” I pull my bag up over my shoulder. “Any quick tips?” My heart races at the prospect of what might happen this weekend—hell, right now in his truck if he wanted.

Roxy shakes her head. “Just be yourself and have fun. I promise, it’ll come naturally.” She winks. “And, if you’re lucky, so will you.”

If I’m lucky. My girl parts clench in a mini rebellion. I’m always lucky with Bryson Edwards around.

Laney leans in, she cuts her gaze over at Bryson, and a sorrowful look crosses her face. “That boy needs some TLC. Just love him sweetly.”

Love him sweetly. That’s exactly what I plan on doing.

Bryson and I drive down the city streets of Hollow Brook as the leaves rain over the sidewalks like buckets full of rustic-colored confetti. An entire army of gardeners attack the rolling green lawn in front of the public library. I watch as their weed whackers get close to the border garden filled with marigolds—their proud orange poms shiver in fear of decapitation.

Bryson swings into a parking lot and only after the fact do I read the sign on the side of the building in front of us,
Quincy Howard School for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing
.

“I wondered how far we’d get before you pulled over to steal a kiss.” I unbuckle my seatbelt and slide into him.

A naughty smile twitches on his lips. “Come here.” Bryson pulls me in, and our mouths find one another, desperately hungry for more than we could ever hope to accomplish sitting in the front seat of his supped-up monster truck. Bryson plunges his tongue in my mouth and teases me with laboriously slow, agonizingly sweet kisses. A moan vibrates from his throat to the most intimate part of me, and it quivers with an erotic approval. “Baya,” he pulls back and takes me in. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he whispers in awe as if seeing me for the very first time.

“
You’re
amazing.” I take in his features and memorize them. His brows pitch, annunciating the barely-there scar just under his left eye. “What happened?” I touch it carefully as if the wound had never healed.

“Fell off a horse and hit a pipe sticking up from the ground. I’m pretty lucky I didn’t lose an eye that day.”

“That’s scary.” I run my fingers through his thick hair. “I’m glad you didn’t hurt your beautiful eyes.” I press in another kiss, and my lips linger soft as clouds over him. “You make every moment special whether we’re together or not. But I
much
prefer when we’re together.” Our lips meet again, and this time it’s fueled with lust that only the prospect of sharing something so incredible might bring. My body aches to have him. It’s as if he’s pouring his lust for me straight down my throat, and I’m drinking it to the dregs like the most maddening wine. I’m drunk off Bryson Edwards, addicted in the very best way.

“We’ll be together all weekend.” He pulls back. The trace of a smile never leaves his lips.

A harsh knock explodes over the passenger’s side window, and I jump back to find a sandy-haired blonde waving at us. She’s pretty with familiar, clear blue eyes.

“God, you attract them everywhere you go. Who’s that?” My stomach sinks at the sight of her. She’s so beautiful I’m almost afraid to ask.

“That”—he unlocks the truck, and she opens the back door—“is my sister, Annie.” His fingers start contorting in a strange formation, and it takes a second for me to register he’s signing to her.

Annie waves at me, and her smile widens. She signs something over to Bryson before latching the seatbelt over her waist.

“She says she’s happy to meet you. She also said you’re far too pretty for me.” He frowns over at her. “And I happen to agree.” He starts up the truck, and we’re on our way again.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” I say as we head back out onto the highway.

“Annie was born completely deaf,” he says, glancing back at her in the rearview mirror. “She’s pretty good at reading lips most of the time, unless, of course, you sign. Then she understands you perfectly.”

“God,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.” I sink in my seat a little. “I had no idea. She’s so beautiful.”

“She’s a trooper. Annie doesn’t consider it a curse. To her it’s a blessing. She likes the kids she goes to school with. Annie’s an encourager. She likes to build people up when they get down.”

“What grade is she in?” I feel horrible talking about her when she’s less than two feet from us.

“Senior.” She’s filling out her app for Whitney Briggs in the fall. They have accommodations that can help her out with classes, so I feel pretty good about it.” He gives a thumbs up to the backseat, and Annie reciprocates.

My heart melts watching Bryson interact with his sister. Somehow meeting Annie only makes my heart expand for him even more. And here I thought it was full. Bryson keeps surprising me in ways I could never imagine. I love everything about him, and, now, I can’t wait to show him in the most intimate way.

We drive about a half hour until the cityscape is traded for expansive properties with long bridle fences that stretch acre after acre. Horses dot the countryside, Arabians, palominos, paints. I’ve seen my fair share of horses after moving to Texas. I miss seeing their regal beauty, and it hasn’t been two months.

The houses expand around us in both girth and width, each with an entire row of three and four car garages tucked beneath them. We drift into a ritzy neighborhood lined with luxury SUVs and newly minted sports cars, and I can’t help but marvel. After my dad passed away, there never seemed to be enough of anything, friends and family included.

Bryson pulls up to a large wrought iron fence and punches in a code at the entry before the gates part like wings, and we drive on through. A small winding road takes us past a series of juniper trees before revealing an enormous stone structure far too big to ever be the home of just one family.

My mouth opens as if to ask the question.

“This is Mom’s house,” Bryson says as he parks close to the stairs that lead up to a grand entrance. “My dad paid most of it off as a parting gift.”

“It’s amazing,” I whisper, taking in the Spanish style abode. The arched windows, the rounded curves of the towers that stretch on either side of it, give it a fairytale appeal.

We get out, and Bryson comes over and picks up my bag in one hand, my hand in the other, and my adrenaline soars. He’s never held my hand on campus, and for sure not at the apartment, but here we were free to do anything we want.

Annie skips up the stairs ahead of us and bursts through the front door.

The house looks like it belongs in another country, another time, another
world
. Bryson hoists our bags over his shoulder and leads me up the steps.

“I can’t wait for you to meet my mom. She’s going to love you.”

“She is?” Suddenly the idea of meeting his mother has me shaking in my impractically high heels. I’ve never met a boy’s mother before, especially not when I’m spending the night, and her son is setting an inferno off in the most intimate part of me just from the simple act of holding my hand. I try to call off my rabid vagina, but it’s too late. She’s bucking and reeling from being so close to Bryson—to his
bedroom
. “Does she know I’m coming?” Unfortunately that can be taken both literally and figuratively.