As Far as You'll Take Me - Phil Stamper Page 0,37

play a duet with him.”

“The video’s really good, mate,” Ajay says. Pierce grunts in agreement.

“You’re welcome,” Sophie says. “If anyone else wants to commission me for an iPhone recording, I’ll send over my prices.”

Pierce nudges me. “Your portfolio is going to be looking great.”

“I don’t know if it’ll make much difference. I played one song. From a movie. That I’ve been playing since eighth grade. I’m nothing like Sang—he just figured it out and played it alongside me, acting like we’ve practiced this our whole lives.”

Pierce releases a dry laugh. “Hey, sometimes it’s okay to ride on someone’s coattails, if it gets you where you want to go.”

A chuckle escapes me, and my gaze falls to my hands in my lap. I try to ignore Pierce’s hands, when I notice they’re fairly close to mine. Yes, hand-holding was all the rage at age twelve, but I kind of missed out on that, and the one time we’ve done it was not enough to satiate this need.

Pierce puts a hand on my leg, near my knee. But I’m wearing shorts, so his hand is definitely touching my leg hair, and that’s a gross thing to think about, but it’s definitely sending chills up my leg and into my special regions, but I can’t show how this is affecting me, so I turn to him and smile like I’m the most normal kid in Normalville, meanwhile I’m shaking on the inside, and shit I forgot to breathe and …

His body slides down a bit in his seat. He’s smaller than me in every way, so when he slouches and leans into me, he’s able to rest his head softly on the side of my arm.

I glance over his head to see Sophie’s eyes widen. She looks to me and nods in approval.

This is real.

No amount of googling can prepare you for this moment. When you inch your way toward a relationship, testing boundaries and learning limits. He made the first move, putting his hand on my leg. He made the second move, resting against me.

If I don’t do something fast, he’ll pull away. He’ll think I’m rejecting him.

I take a deep breath and coach myself through this. My lungs are about to burst with excitement, but I have to keep my cool.

I slowly lift my arm and lean back against the window. This prompts him to pull into me, resting his head on my chest.

(Side note: I am definitely getting excited in ways that are one-hundred-percent not okay in a car full of people.)

I place my arm around him and pray I don’t look as awkward as I feel. He’s warm on my chest—it’s warm in here—but I could let him stay forever. The fresh, fruity smell of his shampoo hits my nose.

We stay like that for a minute before I can breathe again. I see him rise and fall on my chest as I take in air, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

He made two moves. I made one.

Time to even the score.

His hands are pressed together and rest somewhere in the void between my leg and his lap. I bring my hand around and place it over his. God, his hands are warm and mine feel like they’ve just come in from a blizzard.

This moment is sweet and it’s never going to last.

Sophie’s stopped watching, but I wonder what she’s thinking. I can’t get her warning out of my head. She thinks he’s just going to make me fall for him, then kick me to the curb.

But right now that idea lies beyond the constrains of my comprehension.

Before I know it, he’s asleep.

Before I know it, I’m falling asleep too.

Some minutes, or hours or days, later, he sits up and jolts me out of my nap.

“Now I see why you demanded the middle seat,” Ajay says, chiding him.

“Oh, sod off. I know how to pick who’s most comfortable.”

We all chuckle at the line, but my laugh is hollow. I know I’m the most comfortable. I’m the only guy here with extra padding on his chest, and everywhere else for that matter.

I pull my arm around my gut again, and suck it in. My mind flashes back to Pierce’s spontaneous chatter about tuna melts and mayo and fat content and the disgust that was on his face when he said he could never eat the whole sandwich. The same whole sandwich that was residing in my own stomach.

I remind myself that he didn’t mean anything by that, just like he doesn’t

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