Date Me

I need more insulation from his electrical touch.

I reach up and wrap my arm around his neck. He drops his head, placing his cheek next to mine. Even though the music is still fast, our bodies have slowed way down. His hands move slowly across my body, leaving little shocks of pleasure in their wake.

The music stops.

My ten-song playlist is over.

I turn around and face him.

Our faces are so close.

Our lips torturously closer.

His hand tangles in my hair, and he looks at me. His eyes are kissing my soul. Caressing me like a lover. They sparkle and shine with both fire and tenderness.

I realize I’ve been holding my breath.

I suck in a big breath of air and back away from him.

I need to get out of here.

Like, now.

“I think you're ready for the dance,” I say, as I grab my jacket off his chair.

He steals it from me and plops down on his futon.

“Dance for me,” he commands.

“Dance for you?”

“Yeah.”

“You wa

“No. I want to see you move. Show me your new routine. My sister’s been telling me about it.”

“I can't show you. It's totally top secret.”

“It’s either that or I pull you on this futon and make a cheater out of you.”

At first, I think he’s kidding. But the way he's leaning on the futon. The shadows playing across his face. His hooded eyes. That freaking mouth.

It stops me dead in my tracks.

I would be both pissed and hurt if Dawson danced with someone the way I just danced with Aiden.

I used to be the kind of girl that flirted with everyone and anyone. The old me would flirt with Aiden and lead him on. Vanessa would say it's smart. Smart to have a few guys in reserve that want you. That it keeps the guy you're with on his toes. And if he turns out to be a jerk, you just tee up the next guy.

That might be the kind of girl I was, but it’s not the kind of girl I want to be.

And why is he dancing with me like this when he’s asking someone else to Homecoming? It’s not fair to her either.

I should do the right thing.

“Look, Aiden. It's nice that we’re getting along better. But I like Dawson and I shouldn't have danced with you like that. I don't want to give you the wrong idea. So if I'm going to keep tutoring you, it'll have to be in the library. No more dances. No more almost kisses. No more talking on my neck.”

“But you and Dawson aren't exclusive. You still aren't wearing the key. So go on a date with me. Date us both.”

I look at him. Stare into those eyes.

But, I can’t.

I don’t want this.

“I'm sorry, Aiden, but I can’t date a guy like you. A guy that can’t decide if he loves me or hates me." He's getting ready to counter my argument, but I don't give him the chance. "And I know we had some crazy love at first sight thing, but we obviously would be a disaster together.”

He grins at me.

Just keeps gri

Then he taps his foot like he knows a secret and can hardly keep it inside him. His whole body is practically humming.

And his stupid grin keeps growing.

Damn that smile. I wish he would just put that thing away.

“Why are you gri

“Love at first sight, huh?”

“No. It’s just an expression. That stuff doesn't happen in real life,” I say, even though I know sometimes it does.

He stands up close to me. His broad naked chest is so close to mine I can feel when he breathes. I hold my breath and move slightly backward, trying to increase the space between us.

But when I take a step back, he takes another step forward.

I take another step and back into his wall. There's nowhere else for me to go.

He puts his palms against the wall on each side of my head. I've never seen this look in his eyes before. It's hunger. And it looks so fucking sexy on him.

I let out a little breath. Almost a sigh. And close my eyes.

I can't let him look at me like that. I won’t.

His cheek grazes mine as he whispers in my ear. “I think being just your friend will be fun.”

I don't open my eyes. I just pant out, “How so?”

Where are those damn magic Spanx when you need them?

He places his open mouth on my cheek, slowly closing it into a pucker. He gently pulls his top lip off my cheek first, the bottom lip staying in place and then—bit by agonizing bit—receding.

It's then that I open my eyes.

And need to move.

“I have to go.”

“See ya, friend,” he says playfully.

But he doesn't move. He just raises one hand off the wall, giving me a small pathway to squeeze through.

He's such a jerk, I think, as I squeeze past him.

I get my stuff together and then take one last look at his room. The twinkle lights. The smell. The memories of our dances and his kisses.

Then I glance up at the stars that are still in place. Waiting to ask a girl to the dance.

When I close the door, I know I’m closing the door on us and not coming back.

I'm not coming back here.

Ever. Again.

And I feel surprisingly good.

Like a weight has lifted off me.

Like I just battled an addiction and won.

No, it’s better than that.

I just kicked fate’s ass. And won.

It’s freeing.

And it’s official.

My silly schoolgirl crush on the god is over.

I stop and sit on the stairs, feeling proud of myself and happy with my decision. I really like Dawson and I think it’s time I let him know it.

I don't text him. I call.

“Where are you?” he asks.

“In your dorm. Where are you?”

“Hang on.” I hear a bunch of noise. A chair sliding across the floor, rustling. “I'm in my bed. Almost naked.”

Just thinking about him almost naked makes me feel warm. “Should I start stripping my clothes off as I walk down the hall?”

“Damn, that sounds hot. Can I watch?”

“No one is in your hall right now,” I say as I round the corner. “Maybe you can.”

I wait by the stairs at the end of the hall for him to open his door.

When he does peek out, I see he’s shirtless, wearing a pair of athletic shorts, and probably nothing else.

I'm shaking. Half excited and half scared of what I think I’m about to do.

He winks at me, which sets me in motion. I take a step forward, pull my top off, and toss it down the hall at him. He grabs it and throws it into his room.

I say a quick prayer I don't get caught.

I walk by another door, pull my shorts off, and throw them at him.

Now I’m in nothing but a bra and a thong.

I take another step. I'm two doors away and breathing heavily.

What on earth possessed me to do this?

But the fire in Dawson's eyes, and the fact that his shorts are now saluting me, keep me going.

When I'm one door away, I stop and undo my bra.

He grabs me and pulls me into his bedroom.

He doesn't close the door, so I kick it shut behind us. When he hears it shut, he slams me back into it.

“Fuck, Keatie. I can't believe you just did that!”

I don’t get to reply. His mouth is on mine. His hands are in my hair, then down my back, then cupping my ass and pulling me up toward him. He leans me back against the wall and pushes his shorts down. I wrap my legs around him and kiss his neck. Hard. When he thrusts into me, I gasp and kiss him again. He's as out of control as I feel.

I'm trying to be quiet. But I'm having a hard time. I don’t want anyone walking in the hall to hear us. Dawson stops suddenly and says into my hair, “Not yet.”

Then he locks the door and carries me to his bed. We're still attached in every way when we fall onto the bed.

“Ohhh, god,” I say.

Apparently that was all he was waiting for. He's out of control again.

Finally, he says, “Holy shit.” And collapses on top of me.

He kisses my cheekbone, down by my ear, and then rolls off me. He lies spread out on the bed like he just finished a marathon.