𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.✓ completed

Untitled Part 14

 Chapter Fourteen

Beck

I try not to take it personally as I watch Willow run away from me like I'm the carrier of some deadly disease. But I do a fucking lot. It's my own damn fault for kissing her. I knew how she'd react, yet my drunken mind rationalized that the timing was right.

I'm starting to wonder if the timing will ever be right.

Huffing a frustrated breath, I haul my ass over the fence and dive into my backyard. I consider heading to the beer pong table to play a game or two to distract myself, but I'm no longer in a partying mood. A first for me.

Willow got under my skin in the best fucking way possible. I can still taste her cherry lip gloss, smell her perfume, feel her hips as she was grinding against me, feel her firm ass as I pressed her closer. I've wanted to kiss her for so long, and now that I have, I want more.

So much more.

More than she might be willing to give.

I push my way through the throng of people, making my way up to the back porch. I don't know where I'm going, what I'm doing, or what I'm going to do when I get there, but since all of my thoughts are centered on Willow, I have a feeling I might chase her down like a needy guy and scare her off even more.

Thankfully, Ari cuts me off at the back door and saves me from doing something stupid. He has a cup in his hand and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up.

"Why do you look pissed off?"

 "Do I?" I play dumb, my thoughts wandering back to the field, to the kiss.

God, she tasted good. Really, really fucking good. And the way she shivered as I traced my hands over her body, tangled my fingers through her long brown hair, ran my palms up her thighs all the way to the bottom of her dress, the way she let out a moan as she came apart .... I think, during all those years of dirty dreams, my imagination might have failed me, because that kiss was better than my wildest fantasies. Hands down, the best kiss ever, and I've done my fair share of kissing and then some.

What I didn't realize until tonight, is that there's a different level of kissing I hadn't even tapped into. Good kissing, bad kissing, and perfect kissing.

Yeah, I know I sound like a fucking sap, but I'm too far gone to give a shit.

Ari squints at me through his glasses. "Does this have anything to do with Willow running out of the house like it was on fire?"

My jaw tightens as my wounded ego stings. "Perhaps."

"You didn't ..." He narrows his eyes. "You fucking kissed her, didn't you?"

"So what if I did?" I reply defensively, not liking how pissed off he looks.

"Fuck, I thought you said you weren't going to try that shit again. Last time, everything was so awkward between you two, and it made things complicated between everyone."

"I didn't try that shit again. I did it again," I state pointlessly. "And me and Willow kissing has nothing to do with you or Luna or Wynter. This is between me and her."

He rolls his eyes. "You're an idiot if you believe that because, in the end, Wynter and Luna are going to side with Willow, which means Grey is, too. That leaves me siding with you, and that just fucking sucks."

"No one's siding with anyone," I assure him. "I'll fix this."

"Please do," he says then takes a long sip of his drink. "I don't want everyone fighting."

I shake my head, annoyed he's turning my kiss with Willow into a group issue. "I'm going up to my room. You can crash in one of the guestrooms if you need to."

I don't wait for him to respond before walking into my house. I plan on going to my room so I can alleviate some of the sexual tension jumbled inside me, but I end up getting suckered into playing a game of quarters on my way there. By the time I finally drag my drunk ass upstairs, Willow has consumed my every thought, and I'm so worked up I can barely think straight.

I wrestle to get my phone out of my pocket as I stumble into my bedroom. I don't bother turning on the light—I probably couldn't find the light switch if I tried—and flop down on my bed. It takes me a few tries before I manage to open a new text. After giving myself a pat on the back for being so awesome, I deliberate what I want to type. The longer I think about it, though, the more I realize thinking is overrated. So, I type the first thing that pops into my he

ad. Then I roll onto my back and shut my eyes, drifting off into my fantasies.