Shift

“This is going to be messy,” I say, closing the space between our lips an inch at a time.

“It already is,” she responds.

I breathe out a laugh and nod again. My eyes dive to her mouth, hands slide along her jaw and into her hair just as she grips a fistful of my T-shirt, the same handful of cotton she gathered up last night. We’re cursed to replay this scene over and over again it seems. If she weren’t so delicious, I’d be able to stop. But she is. She’s sweet like honey, and my body grows hungrier and more dependent on her every time we touch. We probably only have minutes before someone peeks inside or her mom comes to check on the booth.

Minutes.

I thrive in a world of seconds. Milliseconds. When I think about it that way, Ha

ah and I have all the time in the world. Long enough for me to memorize every sound she makes when I suck in her top lip, bite at the tender skin of her neck, and trace each curve of her back, following the arch all the way down to the inside of her jeans.

This secret, it won’t last forever. Tommy will find out. And he will fucking kill me. But my God, will I die happy.