My Favorite Mistake (My Favorite Mistake #1)(36)
Author: Chelsea M. Cameron

I turned my head toward the movie, but I was even more distracted. He’d planted the seed of that idea in my head and now that thing was growing as if someone had Miracle-Gro-ed the shit out of it. Mental weed killer wasn’t going to work on that sucker.

The next hour was pure torture. Part of me wondered if he’d done it on purpose. To tease me. He’d done things like that before. Our hands didn’t collide in the popcorn bowl, and he pretended as if we were two friends watching a movie.

When it was over, and the popcorn was gone, I waited for him to say something.

“You tired?” I asked. I didn’t have to be up too early, but I knew he did.

“Yeah, I guess we should go to bed.”

It was a very anticlimactic end to our date. He got up and gathered the remnants of our movie snacks and threw them in the sink.

“I’m gonna go brush my teeth,” he said, stepping around me.

I went into the bedroom and tried to get myself under control.

Not good, not good, not good.

I had to put a cork in my hormones. I’d never reacted like that to anyone. No guy had ever made me feel like I was on fire. I’d thought all that talk about it was just people being melodramatic. Guess it wasn’t.

He came back and without another look at me, shucked off his shirt and got into bed. Oh that was it.

“What the hell, dude?”

“What?” He turned over, as if he had no idea what I was talking about.

“Are you kidding? Seriously? All that talk about the wanting and the kissing and everything and now you’re going to just pretend like it didn’t happen? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I just thought that I’d been too forward and I thought that I’d freaked you out. I was just giving you space.”

“Oh.”

“So how did you feel about what I said?”

I sputtered for a second, unable to use actual words. Just sounds.

“Can I take that as a confirmation that yes, it would be something you would be interested in?” His blue eyes begged me to say yes.

“I don’t know. Maybe?”

“There’s no maybe about it, Missy. Either yes or no.”

“Can I have some time?”

“Sure, Miss. There’s no expiration date on my offer. If you come to me in sixty years, I’ll be waiting with a bottle of Viagra.”

Ew and yuck.

“Thanks for tonight. I had a really good time.” How was this supposed to work? I mean, usually a date ended and the guy dropped the girl off and they said goodnight. With us, there was no goodnight. We’d see each other when we woke up.

“Good. That was the plan.” I got into bed, trying not to stare at his chest. “Can I ask one more thing?” he said.

“Uh, sure.”

“Can I kiss you goodnight?”

“I guess so.”

“You seemed to enjoy it the last couple times.”

“Shut up.” And kiss me, I didn’t say.

He got out of bed and walked slowly to mine. I got up and we stared at one another for a breath of time. He leaned down, and I waited this time.

“Goodnight, Taylor.”

He leaned down and pressed the sweetest, briefest kiss in the history of the world. He tried to pull away, but my lips and the rest of me wouldn’t let him. I pulled him back for just a second before I slammed the door on my desire and was able to detach myself from him.

“Goodnight, Hunter.” I somehow got myself back into bed. He stood there for a moment before sighing and going to his bed.

“Love me?” he whispered as he tossed his boxers on the floor.

“Nope.”

“Hate me?”

“Not as much as conjugating verbs.”

“Good.”

My body hummed with energy. There was no way I was getting to sleep at this point. It was going to be a long night.

Twenty-Three

I’d never experienced the “hot and bothered” feeling, but around 3 a.m., I had to get up and get out of the room. I could hear Hunter’s every breath and movement like never before. I had a brief notion of going to sleep, or trying to, in Darah and Renee’s room, but then Hunter would know that I was hot and bothered.

I didn’t look at my face in the mirror because I didn’t want to see it. Instead I sat on the rim of the tub and twirled my hair with one finger. It was a habit I’d picked up when I was a kid that I hadn’t done in a long time. When I’d been young, I’d twirled so much I’d actually pulled some of my hair out. My therapist at the time, Dr. Blood, had given me a stress ball, but that hadn’t helped. I was irreparably broken.

I’d accepted the fact that I was messed up a long time ago. It was one of the reasons I’d promised myself to not get involved with anyone. No one should have to deal with my issues, other than me. It was easy, because there wasn’t anyone that I wanted to be with anyway.

Until now.

Hunter had said that he wanted me, and I couldn’t deny it any longer. I wanted him, too. I wanted him so much I could barely stand it. I spent nearly every waking hour with him, and I lamented the hours we were apart. Not because I needed him all the time, but I missed him when he wasn’t around. There were times when I’d see something, or someone would say something and I’d think, ‘Hunter would love that,’ or ‘the only other person who would find this funny is Hunter.’ I missed having his running commentary on everything.

He’d told me I wasn’t in love with him yet. Oh, but I was close. If this wasn’t almost love, I didn’t know what was.

A knock interrupted my thoughts.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Can I have some freaking privacy?”

“Sorry. You’ve just been in there for a while; I wanted to make sure you weren’t sick or anything. I’m leaving now. Also, I’m nak*d, so if you open the door right now, you’re going to get the full show.”

“Pass.”

“Suit yourself.” I heard him turn and go back to our room and close the door.

I stayed in the bathroom for a few more minutes, deciding I was just as hot and bothered there as in my bed, so I might as well be comfortable.

I didn’t say anything as I got back into bed.

“You know if you’re uncomfortable with what I said, it’s okay. I did kind of spring it on you,” he said. “I can take it back if you want.”

“The problem isn’t that I’m uncomfortable with it, the problem is that I want it!” I yelled. It was official; I’d lost it. Oh well, I wasn’t known for having a long fuse. “Are you happy? Jesus. You say something like that and then expect me to just be whatever about it. That’s like teasing someone with a giant red velvet cake and then putting it in one of those glass rotating desert thingies.” I wasn’t my most eloquent at the moment.

“Does this mean I’m the cake?”

“Shut up, it was a metaphor.”

“So you want me?”

So much it hurt.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Right now?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Now he was the one who sounded nervous.

“What?”

“It’s just… a surprise.”

“I told you I would entertain the idea.”

“I know. I just didn’t think you’d be so enthusiastic so soon.”

“Hunter, I’m a virgin. Not a nun.”

He didn’t talk for a moment.

“That was the sexiest thing you’ve ever said. God, why do you do this to me?” He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. I could just make out his nak*d chest in the dark.

“Ditto.”

“I feel both honored and terrified at the same time.”

“Why terrified?” I said. Hunter Zaccadelli wasn’t afraid of anything, let alone sex.

“That’s a lot of pressure. I mean, to ask me to be the first. I just… I don’t want to f**k it up. You’re too important for that.”

“I’m sure you’ve got plenty of experience.” I would be the one messing it up.

“All that doesn’t matter. All that stuff I did before was just sex. I told you, I don’t want to have sex with you. I want to do more. You deserve so much more. More than me anyway.”

“What if I don’t want more? What if I just want you?” All my feelings and frustrations had finally spilled out of my mouth.

“I take it back. That was the sexiest thing you’ve ever said.”

“So what now?”

“Well, I know we both have class tomorrow, but I don’t really want this date to end.”

“Me neither.”

“Hooky? I’ve got somewhere I want to take you.” I’d never played hooky in college. High school, plenty of times. I figured I’d paid enough damn money for my college education that I shouldn’t waste it. But maybe just this once.

I’d have to call out of work, but I was only scheduled for two hours, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. It would probably be the one and only time. I’d only called in sick once to any of the jobs I’d ever had and that was because I had food poisoning and had to be next to a trash can at all times.

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay.”

We both lay there for a moment.

“I can’t sleep,” he said.

“Neither can I.”

“I have something in mind that we could do.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“If you want.”

“Noted.”

“All you’d have to do is come over here. Or I could come to you.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve never discussed it this much.”

“Sex?”

“Yeah, it usually just happens.”

“See, I’ve never understood that. It can’t ‘just happen.’ You can’t go from point A to sex in a moment.”

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“Usually on how much you’ve had to drink or how hot the girl is.”

“Pig.”

“Hey, I told you all that other stuff was in the past. It would be different with you.”

“How?”

“You want a play-by-play?”

“I’m just… curious.”

“I swear, you are killing me in the slowest most torturous way possible. I think I’m going to need about twenty cold showers after this conversation.”

I was going to need more than a few.

“We should go to bed,” I said.

“We should.” He sighed. “Nope, not going to happen. If you want me, I’ll be on the couch.” With that, he grabbed his boxers, slid them on, grabbed his pillow and blanket, and was out the door before you could say condom.

Thank God.

It was easier to think about other things like French verbs and the subtle expression of misogyny in film when he wasn’t in the room. I also thought about other things. I imagined us being… together. It was a nice image, but then it morphed into another image. The image of Travis’ face when he… No. I shut the mental replay down and tried to think about something else.