A small frown mars her brow, telling me she doesn’t quite understand.
I sigh, leaning forward and hiding my face in the crook of her neck, embarrassed. “I’ve never brought a girl back here,” I mumble against her skin. “I’ve never done anything with a girl in here because . . . I don’t know.” I huff, pulling my face from her neck, but I’m still too ashamed to look her in the eyes. “It’s too personal,” I admit.
After a moment of silence, I finally gain some courage to glance at her face.
I bring my hands up to gently rest on each side of her neck, my thumbs stroking the edge of her jaw as I look into her eyes. “My number-one rule has always been to never let a girl into my room, so they don’t get any ideas or stay. Hell, I never even let a girl walk into my room before, just because. I broke that rule for you, though, Finch,” I whisper. “Only you.”
A look I can’t quite decipher washes over her face.
I lick my dry lips before continuing. “I know the things said about me today aren’t necessarily untrue.” I cringe. “But just know that you’re nothing like the other girls. Me breaking my rules for you, just know that means something,” I promise. “That you mean something to me.”
Her eyes grow soft, and a look of adoration mixed with appreciation graces her face. “Okay,” she says softly, nodding in understanding.
I lean forward and press my forehead to hers. “I promise you, you’re the only one who’s mattered.”
A small smile tugs at her lips and she places her hands on my forearms, her thumbs stroking back and forth. “Is that why Adrianna was so shocked?” she asks, a hint of laughter in her voice.
Reluctantly, a laugh bubbles up the back of my throat. “Yeah. She’s tried on multiple occasions to get in, but . . .” I trail off, not really wanting to discuss Adrianna, or any other random hookups I’ve had, any further.
“Ah.” She nods once, understanding.
I can tell the thought of other girls is still a sore subject for her, naturally. If she had old flames coming up to her or a notable reputation of hooking up with randoms, there’s no doubt I’d be jealous as hell.
“So, are we good now?” I ask, hopeful.
She smiles genuinely. “Yeah, we’re good.”
“Thank god,” I groan in relief, closing my eyes briefly. “Does that mean I get to kiss you now?” I smirk, leaning in and hovering my lips dangerously close to hers.
I don’t miss the smirk playing on her lips as she loops her arms around my neck. “What happened to kissing me whenever you want?” she teases, quoting me from earlier today.
“You’re right,” I say, my lips just brushing against hers. “I can kiss you”—I lean forward all the way, nipping her bottom lip—“whenever I want.”
Urgently, I crash my lips against hers, sliding my hand into her hair, threading my fingers through it. A small, approving hum comes from the back of her throat when I lightly skim my tongue across her bottom lip, spurring me on. I stand up a bit taller, causing her to tilt her head back, her jaw naturally slacking.
With one of my hands still on her neck, I use my thumb to angle her head just right and slip my tongue past her lips, inside her mouth, to brush against her own. The second my tongue touches hers, I’m a goner.
A low moan erupts from the back of my throat and Olivia pulls me closer, her hands grabbing at the back of my shirt as her legs tighten around my torso. I untangle my fingers from her hair, running my hand down her spine to that dip at the small of her back that drives me wild. Boldly, I sneak my hand under the hem of her shirt, splaying it across her warm, smooth skin, sending my brain into a fritz.
Leaning forward, I press our bodies impossibly closer, causing her to lie back as I lean over her. I kiss her over and over again, getting caught up in how good her body and lips feel against mine.
I know we should stop, or at least slow down, but I also know I’d be an idiot to stop. Unable to convince myself to, I keep kissing her, continuing to brush my lips against hers slowly, passionately, desperately.
We only manage to break apart when we hear the door rattle and fling open, Chase obnoxiously and unknowingly barging in, bringing our moment to an abrupt halt.
Olivia gasps against my mouth in surprise, pushing me away and sitting up to frantically adjust her clothes while simultaneously trying to fix her hair. Her pupils are dilated and her cheeks are flushed, while her lips are wet and rosy. She looks absolutely stunning as we both try to catch our breath, and it takes everything in me not to shove Chase out of the room right this second.
“Whoa,” Chase breathes, caught off guard himself. He stands frozen in the doorway, looking at us with wide eyes.
“Ever heard of knocking, asshole?” I practically growl, staring at him over my shoulder.
Chase blinks at me, confused. “Dude, it’s my room too! You never have girls over so how was I supposed to know?” he tries to defend himself.
Olivia leans forward and hides her reddening face in my chest, flustered and embarrassed by being caught making out in the middle of my room by my airhead roommate.
I wrap an arm around her, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head and to whisper in her ear. “See?” I say, a teasing lilt in my tone as I try to lighten the mood. “I told you you’re the only girl who’s ever been in my room.”
She pulls back a little to look up at my face, her eyes brightening.
