Chapter Twenty-Four

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The Diner Date
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"Stop, don't move
Got my eyes on the face of the danger in you
I want to
Be the one that can change up the pace of the room"

Move -Milo Greene

In my shirt and a pair of long white socks, she moves to the rhythm. My sunglasses perch at the bridge of her nose as she sways, and I lean against her headboard, utterly captivated. Damn, she's just perfect.

Climbing onto the bed, she positions herself at the mattress's edge, shuffling closer until she gracefully lands on her knees, settling on my lap. A smile, perfectly aligned with mine, graces her lips.

As I lean in, her lips anticipating the connection, I slip my sunglasses up and gently nestle them into her hair.

Her eyes had easily become my favorite shade of green. It was just after noon, and I was ravenously hungry. But I'd let my insides gnaw at themselves if it meant she'd stay here for eternity with me.

Her kiss hurt so bad, but I didn't want her to stop. Ever. Her kisses were intentionally painful, the imprint of her teeth on the inner side of my lip, I hoped would never fade.

Her hands slid down my chest, lingering over my bra-covered breasts, and the hood of my jacket fell from my head.

I never really understood the fascination with boobs, but I liked that she liked mine. She pulled back, hands moving away. "Alright, tell me something I don't know about you," she said, her eyes searching mine.

"Something you don't know about me?" I pondered for a moment, trying to think of something interesting. "Well, I can touch my nose with my tongue," I blurted out.

She smiled, "Show me."

I laughed and stuck out my tongue, wiggling it around until I managed to touch the tip of my nose. She nodded, clearly impressed.

"Alright, now tell me something deep," she said as I wiped my nose. Her hands tugged on my jacket. "What's with the jacket?" she asked.

"It was my mom's, nothing deep about it," I said with a shrug.

She nodded, slower this time, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. Just before she opened her mouth to speak, her nod morphed into a disagreement, and she shook her head. "I don't believe you."

A smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I somehow maneuver her back, pressing her against the sheets. "Uhhh," I crawl up, leaning into her neck. "A story for another time," I say against her skin before my lips scatter a dozen sloppy kisses across her neck. She tilts her head, giving me more access.

"I just want to know more about you," she confesses, a soft, long sigh escaping after her words.

Pulling back, I hover, my hands pressed into the bed on either side of her. "I knew from the moment I saw you, I had to have you," I continue our confessions.

She smiles, the kind of smile you have to ruin with a kiss, but as I lean down, her hands come up to stop me. Resistance against my shoulders.

"And when was that," she leads me into a trap, "the first time you saw me?"

"At the library," I don't need to think; I remember it as clear as day, though it was such a short moment. "You were pulling up books, and then I saw you again that same day at Viv's costume party."

"Halloween?" She tilts her head, "we've had the same writing classes together since freshman year."

I think back, and no, that can't be true. "What, no way." My brows tug together. "I would have remembered seeing you." My arms start to ache, having been holding myself up too long with my tiny bit of upper body strength.

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝑾𝒆 𝑫𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝑺𝒂𝒚Where stories live. Discover now