Until Harry - L.A. Casey Page 0,51
grinned. “I’ve been here to party a few times.”
I rolled my eyes, not wanting to know how many girls he’d shagged in this house, or in this room. “I don’t want to be in here if you bring girls here for sex.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I’ve never had sex with anyone in here. I just know it’s a guest room.”
I eyed him, and when I saw the truth in his hooded eyes, I nodded.
“Come here,” he said.
I blinked. “Why?”
He shrugged. “’Cause I want you to.”
“Okay,” I said with a quizzical look, and I walked over to him, stopping a few inches away.
“You never answered my question downstairs,” he mumbled and reached out, placing his hands on my bare hips, causing my eyes to widen.
I blinked at the sound of my thudding heartbeat.
“What was your question?” I asked, not recalling anything I had said, because he put his hands on me.
He smirked. “I said, since when do you dress like this?”
I nervously swallowed. “Since tonight. They’re Lavender’s clothes; I’m just borrowing them.”
He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and let his eyes roam over me once more. He looked at me like he appreciated what he saw. He looked at me like I wasn’t a kid, or his best friend. He looked like he . . . desired me.
“Since when do you look at me like that?” I asked, my breathing becoming a little rapid.
Kale’s eyes flashed with fire as he grinned at me. “Since you wore those skinny jeans and I saw you in your bra two months before you turned sixteen. You started looking more like a woman than a little girl.”
I almost fell over. He’d noticed me back then?
I rolled my eyes as if what he said didn’t affect me. “It’s my boobs, isn’t it?” I asked, teasing.
I was trying my hardest to play it cool.
Kale’s eyes zeroed in on my chest. “It’s always the boobs, Lane.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You perv.”
“Hey,” he smiled, flicking his whisky-coloured eyes up to mine. “You asked.”
I playfully shoved him. “If you’re done teasing me, we can go back downstairs.”
He didn’t move an inch.
“Who says I’m teasing you?” he murmured.
I cleared my throat. “I say.”
“Why?” he asked.
Did he want the list?
“Because I’m your best friend, like your sister and I’m under eighteen,” I rattled off. “Three things you always remind me of when we talk about anything related to sex.”
Kale’s tongue swiped across his bottom lip and got my full attention. “I say those things for your benefit, not mine.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked, furrowing my brows.
He blinked and looked away from me. “Shit. Nothing. Forget I said—”
“Oh, no you don’t,” I stated and grabbed hold of his T-shirt when he tried to turn away from me.
Kale grunted but didn’t resist against my hold on him.
“Explain that,” I demanded. “Now.”
He looked up at the ceiling, then back down to me and said, “What do you want me to say, Lane?”
“I want you to tell me what you meant.”
His jaw set. “You sure you want to hear this?” he asked.
“I asked, didn’t I?”
He licked his lips and said, “I know . . . I know that you . . . like me.”
I felt my pounding heart drop to my stomach.
Be cool.
“Wh-Wh-What?” I stuttered.
Be bloody cooler!
I cleared my throat. “Run that by me again?”
He gazed down at me. “I’ve known for a few years that you like me in that way.”
I didn’t understand what was happening.
“Why do you think that?” I asked, trying not to appear as dumbfounded as I felt.
“Come on, Lane,” he said, his lip slightly quirked. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, how you get when I talk about Drew and other girls – and I’ve seen your scribbles on the back pages of your school journals.”
He. Did. Not.
I gasped in horror. “What?”
“‘Lane loves Kale’” – he fully grinned – “and my personal favourite, ‘Mrs Lane Hunt’.”
This wasn’t happening.
“Omigod,” I breathed, and tried to push away from him.
He laughed and swayed again as he grabbed hold of me. “Don’t be embarrassed.”
Embarrassed? my mind screamed. I am fucking mortified.
“Let me go,” I begged. “Omigod, I can’t ever look you in the eye again.”
Kale continued to laugh as I struggled against his hold, and it got under my skin.
“Stop laughing at me!” I shouted.
He pressed his face against my hair, and it halted my movements. “I’m not laughing at you, just at your reaction to me knowing you fancy me.”
The surface of my face felt like