Wasted Words (16 page)

I shoveled a rude bite of ice cream into my mouth and ate it too fast, sending a shock of pain behind my eyes and around my head in a burst. Through the blinding pain of the brain freeze, I reached for my glass and chugged the warm water, holding my breath for the second it took to warm my head back up.

What? I’m a pro ice cream binger. I come prepared.

I was halfway into the gallon when decided I should probably stop. I took another bite, rolling the freezing chocolate around in my mouth. I figured I should go to bed. Maybe read a book. I shoveled my loaded spoon into my mouth again, nodding in solidarity. But first, I would definitely stop eating.

So I took another bite. For good measure, and all.

I heard his key in the door and looked toward the sound with wide eyes, not expecting him home so soon. I didn’t move otherwise, not with my thoughts flying through my brain at the speed of light.

When he stepped through the door, he looked … different. Like his body was charged up and tight, determined, but a spark of fear flickered behind his eyes. Eyes that locked on mine with an intensity I didn’t anticipate. Intensity that stopped my heart.

He didn’t break the silence between us, just closed the door and locked it, deposited his wallet and keys on the small table near the door.
 

I ripped myself out of the trance unwillingly, my eyes finding the ice cream for a distraction as I dug in for a gigantic scoop.
 

“Hey. How’d it go with Adrienne? Tell me I was right about her.” I stuffed the spoon in my mouth and closed my lips, pulling it out without fanfare, though there was too much to eat at once. I looked up as I pulled the remaining lump out, lips parting as I scraped the top layer of ice cream off.

His eyes weren’t on mine. They were on my lips.

“You were right about her. She’s great, Cam.” His tone was obscure, but his words told me enough.

I smiled and swallowed, feeling the cold move down into my chest. “Told you. Did she look great? Tell me she showed off her legs,” I chattered, my voice a little too high. “The girl’s got some stems.”
Shut up, Cam. Stop asking. Stop talking, for God’s sake.
The spoon entered my mouth again to stop anything else from coming out.

He nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets, making no motion to sit. It made me nervous for some reason, and I felt the blood rush to my cold cheeks. “She looked great. She’s beautiful, Cam. Smart. Funny. Gives good advice, too. We have a lot in common. It was a good match.”

My laugh sounded like horse-laugh Julia. “Good. I mean, I knew she would be. You guys are basically perfect together, you know? The first second I saw you and her together, I just knew it.” I kept rambling as I dug my spoon back into the ice cream with an edge of violence. “Did you kiss her?” I tried to sound innocuous, but it came out a little like an accusation.
 

Ice cream in.

He watched me, the look in his eyes enigmatic. “No. Are you jealous?”

I laughed again nervously, hanging my mouth open, hoping I looked gross enough that he’d stop watching me like he was. “No. I mean, why would you even say that? Jealous.” I swallowed and blew air out between my lips so they flapped. “Everything’s fine, Tyler. So fine. I set you up with her. I basically want you to make little beautiful babies who play football or win beauty pageants or are supermodels because your kids would have like the longest legs in the whole world. I even want you to kiss her, if you haven’t already. Have you?” I asked, not giving him time to answer before saying, “No, I don’t care, because I’m not jealous. You should kiss her. You should leave here right now and go over there and kiss her instead of looking at me like that, because when you look at me like that, I want you to kiss me instead.”

I froze.

He didn’t.

He sprang to life from still as stone, moving across the room, around the table with burning eyes and a small, crooked smile.
 

“You want me to kiss you?” he asked, closing the distance.
 

“I — no, that’s not what I meant.” I stammered. “Yes. I mean, no! Maybe.”

He stopped in front of me, pressing his hips against the counter between my knees, spreading them apart. His hand found my cheek, and he said softly, “You want me to kiss you right now, Cam?”

“I…” I breathed, looking up into his eyes, unable to say anything, drunk from the proximity of his lips. But he didn’t wait for me to speak. I think he already knew the answer without me having to say a word.

He inched closer until his nose trailed up the bridge of mine, his lips so close that I could feel them — every nerve reached for him. If I’d moved a half an inch, our lips would have met, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe as I sat on the counter in my kitchen with Tyler Knight’s hand in my hair, his breath mingling with mine, with nothing to separate us save a few layers of clothes and a gallon of ice cream. And after that long, stretched out moment, he kissed me.

The moment our lips touched, we both pulled in a long breath through our noses, lungs sipping the air like it was the first time. He was strong, even in something so tender as a kiss, his lips closing over mine, his tongue running across my bottom lip in his mouth, hand guiding my jaw to put my mouth where he wanted it.

There was no thought other than him as he filled every sense, my brain and body and heart and soul overloaded with Tyler. And everything was blissfully simple, without consequences or questions, no wondering or uncertainty.
 

He broke away, but I couldn’t open my eyes, just stayed where I was with my head tilted up to his, lips parted.

“Wow,” he whispered.
 

My lids weighed a thousand pounds, but I pried them open to meet his gaze. “Wait, am I daydreaming?” I asked, not at all kidding.

He laughed softly, thumb stroking my cheek. “You’ve daydreamed about this?”

“Maybe.”

He bent his head, lips on a track to mine. “Me too.”
 

He kissed me again, this time deeper, his tongue brushing my lips that parted for him. My arms wound around his neck, and I was so mesmerized by his lips, I barely noticed him move the ice cream out of the way. He slipped his hand into the small of my back, sliding me to him until I was flush against his waist. His arm was strong around me, his free hand in my hair, and my legs curled around his waist, squeezing to bring him closer still. Our lips moved together, tongues circling each other, breaths shallow, hearts hammering.

I decided then that I could kiss Tyler forever.

He broke away again, laying a small kiss on my lips, then my cheek as he cupped the back of my head and tucked me into his chest.

“Wow,” I whispered, unable to form any other coherent thought.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. Even sitting on the counter, my head tucked easily under his chin, since he was basically a giant. A giant and a fairy.
 

I laughed, a small sound, my heart filling with the sound of his heart beating under my ear.
 

Tyler’s heart.

Tyler had kissed me. Twice.
 

My smile fell as my brain whirred with questions and doubt and curiosity.
 

The first question was the easiest. I swallowed, not daring to pull away to see his face. “Why did you kiss me, Tyler?”

“Because I wanted to.”

“For how long?”

“Too long.” His fingers shifted in my hair.

My heart ached. “Why now?”

“Because once I knew I wanted to be with you, I had to do something about it, even if you said you thought we weren’t right for each other. I never believed it, you know. I just thought you didn’t want me. Plus, you said you wanted me to kiss you. I don’t think I could have asked for a more obvious sign.”

I pulled back and looked at him like he’d told me he was from the future. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What do you mean?” He looked genuinely confused. Beautifully, blissfully unaware.

“Because you’re… Tyler, you’re so amazing that some days I can’t believe you’re even real. You’re beautiful and kind, loyal, strong. You’re funny and smart and just … you’re the ultimate. And you could have had Adrienne Christie, who’s an actual goddess. You left your date with a goddess and came back here and kissed me.” I shook my head. “It doesn’t make any sense that you’d want me.”

He stroked my cheek, his dark eyes soft. “Maybe not in your universe, but it makes perfect sense in mine.” He brought his lips to mine again, and I melted like a pat of butter in his arms. When he broke away, he said, “Come here,” and grabbed me around the waist like I was sack of sugar. He carried me to the couch and sat down with me straddled across his lap.
 

I looked into his eyes, not entirely certain as to how I’d come to this point and even less certain as to what was next.
If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.
Maybe he’d only wanted a kiss. Maybe he didn’t want more from me than what he’d taken already. Maybe he just wanted to have sex and get it out of his system before he ditched me. My heart sank at the thought.

“What happens now?” I asked, trying to breathe through the anxiety, looking into his eyes for answers.

“What do you want, Cam?”

“To kiss you again,” I answered quietly, honestly.

He smiled and pulled me into him again. His sweet lips were against mine, the smell of him in my nose and his solid chest under my palms. Then my fingers cupped his jaw. Then slipped into his hair. His hands found my hips — nearly circling them — and he pulled me down just enough to feel him pressing against me.

I broke away and peered at him, afraid for the first time since he’d kissed me. “I … I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”

“I’m not either.”

I pouted a little.
 

He chuckled, brushing my bottom lip with his thumb. “What I mean is that I care about you enough that I want to do this right. This isn’t just … I don’t know. Messing around. Not for me. I don’t want to screw it up by rushing things. You just …” His eyes found my lips. “I didn’t know you could kiss like that. You’ve been holding out on me,” he said with a smile.

It was my turn to laugh, and the nerves and anxiety slipped away. I felt like I was on a roller coaster, equal parts terrified, elated, and trying not to puke.

He was still smiling at me, one hand on my hip, the other catching my chin between his thumb and forefinger. The look on his face nearly killed me — it was full of adoration and awe.

If ever a boy could get a girl knocked up from across a room, it was Tyler Knight.

“So,” he said, his smile climbing on one side, “besides more kissing — which I can most definitely provide, on demand and at your leisure — how do you want to do this?”

I thought about it and had zero answers. “I … I don’t know, Tyler. I’ve never done this before.”

Shock passed across his face. “Wait, you mean … are you a …”

My entire face was on fire. “A virgin? God, no. I mean,” I scrambled, “I’m not what you’d call super experienced or anything, but I’m not a virgin.”

Relief was his new expression. “Do you mean boyfriends then?”

My blush deepened, somehow. “To answer your question, yes, I’ve had boyfriends. I’ve just never lived with anyone I’m dating, and I’ve never dated anyone who was already my friend.”

“Me neither.”

“So we’re in uncharted waters. What should we do?”

“Wing it,” he said definitively.

I smiled. “Can I kiss you again?”

“On demand and at your leisure.”

And I laughed and kissed him until my lips were swollen, sure they’d never get their fill.

Tyler

Over the course of a few minutes, kissing Cam became one of my most favorite things in the world.
 

I don’t know what it was about it, exactly. I think she could read me just as well as anyone, better than anyone. She anticipated me, knew somehow what I wanted or needed and gave it to me. She gave and gave and gave, her small body pressed against mine, her hands in my hair as little moans and sighs slipped past her lips.
 

I hadn’t kissed a girl so much in one sitting since high school, but I wasn’t frustrated now like I had been then. Instead I savored every second,
 
every moment as it stretched into the next. I kissed her until her mouth was red. I kissed her until she was breathless. I kissed her until we lay stretched out on the couch with her in my arms.

I don’t know what time it was when she curled into my chest, when her breath slowed as my fingertips traced circles on her back. I knew she was asleep, but I didn’t dare move, lying just like that for a long time, with music playing softly from the kitchen and her small body against mine. I smiled up at the ceiling, happy — deep-down soul happy — for the first time since I couldn’t remember when.

For most of my life, I’d worn a label. The Good Guy or The Tight End with Promise or Carl Knight’s Son. Always something. Inside of that, I’d always been me. But people wanted those labels to give themselves one of their own. Tyler Knight’s Friend. Girlfriend. Coach.
 

But Cam didn’t want my label. She had her own. Truth be told, I think she was afraid of mine.

I can’t say I blame her. Most of the time, I was too.

She wasn’t like the other girls I’d dated. She was real and good and true, and she wanted me. I felt more safe with her than any woman I’d ever been with.

My eyes began to close, but I didn’t want her to have to sleep on the couch with the lights all on. So I turned and slipped an arm underneath her back, then her knees. She half woke up when I stood, picking her up. She was the slightest thing, just a wisp, and I carried her to her dark room, laying her down, tucking her in. I slipped off her glasses and brushed her hair from her face, watching her for a moment before taking a step away.

Her small hand slipped into mine. “Stay,” she said, her voice rough from disuse. And there was no way I could refuse her, even if I’d wanted to.

“All right,” I whispered and unbuttoned my shirt, stealing into my room to put on sleep pants. When I came back, she hadn’t moved, and I pulled back the covers to slip in behind her. She shifted until she was pressed against my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her and drifted away to sleep.