More Than Maybe - Erin Hahn Page 0,83

block and down another. Loud college students barhopping breaking through the silence, but dulling as I lean closer to him. At one point, he slows, looking up, and drags me to a stop.

“What?”

“This is it.”

I look up. It’s a darkened warehouse with cardboard up in the windows, but the unlit sign clearly reads The Bad Apple.

“Wow, it’s…”

“Pretentious?” he says dryly.

I snort. “I was going to say big. It’s hard to tell if it’s pretentious yet, but I would venture anything seems uppity compared to the dive that is the Loud Lizard.”

Luke exhales slowly, taking it in. “He acts like he’s not, but I think he’s still annoyed with me.”

“Because of the song?”

His gaze finds mine. “The song, the disregard for his latest career choice, the refusal to plug his club on our podcast, me, in general.”

“He loves you, though.”

He nods. “I know.”

“I get the impression that Charlie’s a good guy. He’ll come around. He’s just disappointed.”

“D’you think he’s right?”

I’m already shaking my head. “Luke, no. It’s like when you say you’re cold and someone else tries to tell you it’s hot. It doesn’t matter what they think; you feel cold. It doesn’t matter how talented he thinks you are, and believe me, Luke, you’re … exceptional, but if you don’t want to perform, you shouldn’t. What do you want to do?”

He faces me full on and takes my hands in his. He’s not that much taller than I am, so I can look straight into his eyes. I search them, losing myself easily in the calm gray blue. I’m feeling dizzy, but his hands are holding me steady.

“I want to write songs.”

I smile. “That sounds perfectly you.”

He tilts his head. “You don’t think it’s a waste?”

“Never. Unless you decide one day you want to be the voice behind your lyrics. Then seize the moment, Greenly.”

The corner of his lips draws into a lopsided smile, and I’m somehow attached to the movement. At first, I think I’m going to kiss that one little spot where his smile is still quirked. But the closer I get, the more I want every bit of his mouth.

Every song lyric about tasting someone cycles in my brain, and I’m so curious to taste Luke Greenly. Which is super weird, I know. I’ve barely kissed anyone ever, and I’ve certainly never tasted them, but … oh my gosh, he’s moving closer.

He’s so close that, despite his frames, I can see the navy specks in his irises, and navy has always been my favorite color and I wonder if this very moment is why.

“Vada?” His voice is barely above a whisper, and I can smell the hot chocolate on his breath. It’s delicious. When I swallow, it’s loud in my ears.

“Yeah?”

“D’you think … I mean, is it okay if I…”

I can’t speak because I don’t want to waste my mouth on words when I can close the distance between us and show him just how okay it would be if he kisses me.

Or, I suppose, when I kiss him, because that’s what happens.

At first, we’re all soft, closed lips and tentative fingertips. Like butterfly wings or a brush of feathers against sensitive skin. But then there’s a shift, and my skirt floofs between us as his hands circle my waist in a way that feels like he’s possessing me.

I don’t hate it.

I possess him right back, sliding the palms of my hands up his jacket, over his shoulders and around his neck, my fingers tangling in the corn silk blond hair at his nape as his lips open up and gently pull my bottom lip between them.

Oh my gosh.

Something in me comes alive at the sensation of his warm cocoa mouth, cautiously insistent, and almost inside of mine, and well, since he’s there …

Update: french kissing is the best thing ever.

I don’t know why tongues make everything so much more … everything. But they do. It’s hot and wet and his hands are tangled in tulle and my legs are pressed to his and my heart is thudding in the back of my throat but I can feel his heart beating in his neck and now I want to kiss his neck because I want to feel what that is like and I do and did he just make that sound or did I? Why would you ever do anything else when you could spend every moment of every day kissing Luke?

Every moment before now has been a wasted opportunity, and when I’m done kissing Luke, I