every intention of giving it all up then, but the gesture felt a little too…practiced.
“Do you want anything to drink?”
The two of us make our way through the house and into the kitchen. “Yeah. Water, please.”
I sit on the barstool as he grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and hands it to me. An awkward silence fills the air. Kellan must feel it too because he pulls on his hair and groans softly. I watch as he walks around the island and puts his hands on either side of me. He rests his head on mine, sighing heavily.
“I'm sorry I was such an ass last night,” he apologizes.
“Why were you?”
He breathes me in. “I just feel like something is constantly taking you away from me. Whether it's dance, or Tessa, or Colby, you never seem to have time for me.”
His words hit me where it hurts. I hadn't realized I was making him feel like second choice. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him close, finally feeling the connection we share. The connection that made me want to be with him in the first place.
“I'm so sorry, Kel,” I say sadly. “My life has always been so busy that I don't even see it when I'm not making something a priority.”
“I guess I've just had so much free time since baseball ended that I finally noticed how little we see each other,” he explains.
Unable to hold back any longer, I close the gap between our mouths and press my lips to his. It's soft and sweet, just the way I like it. “I'll do better, just promise me something?”
“What?”
“That next time, if there is a next time, that you'll talk to me about it instead of snapping at me.”
He chuckles and nods. “Deal. That party was a drag anyway. You wouldn't have had much fun.”
WITH ALL THE TENSION long gone, Kellan and I cuddle up on the couch and start bingeing the third season of The Walking Dead. Halfway through the second episode, I get up to grab some popcorn. The faint sound of his phone dinging echoes through the room. By the time I get back, he's biting his lip as he focuses his attention down on his phone. My brows furrow as I make my way over to the couch.
“Everything okay?”
He startles slightly, clicking off his phone and putting it back in his sweatshirt pocket. “Yeah, why wouldn't it be?”
I sit next to him and cuddle into his side. “You just seemed really into your phone.”
“Oh, that.” He sounds caught off guard, but he shakes his head. “It was just Oakley. He met some girl at the party last night.”
Dread floods through me as I listen to his lie. There is no way Oakley was at that party last night, because he's in Massachusetts, discussing his college options with his dad and the coach at Boston University. A part of me wants to push the subject—find out why he lied and insist he tells me the truth—but we just finished one argument. I'm not sure I want to have another.
I take a softer approach and relax into him. “Did you meet any girl last night?”
He sports a grin that melts me into a puddle of mush. “Don't be ridiculous. You know you're the only girl for me.”
In one quick move, he flips us around until he's hovering over me. As he drops his mouth down onto mine, all my suspicions go out the window, and the only thing that's left is him and me. He kisses me with a skill born from experience, from the way he grips my waist to the way his tongue tangles with my own. It's so sexy.
It only takes a few minutes of making out before I feel his hand start to slide down to the waistband of my shorts. I hum against his lips and grab his wrist to stop him.
“Kellan,” I murmur.
He pulls away and drops his head against my shoulder. “Why not?”
Because I'm scared.
Because I'm not sure about us.
Because I don't want to.
But all of those answers would only cause an argument I'd really rather avoid right now. So, instead, I play it safe.
“I have my period,” I lie, and giggle as he jumps off me like I'm going to spurt blood at any second.
“Okay, yeah. That's a good enough reason.”
I roll my eyes playfully and smack him with a pillow when he moves to sit five feet away from me. “Relax, dork. Menstruation isn't