This Girl
Page 33

 Colleen Hoover

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“I love you, Lake.” I lean my forehead against hers. “You deserve to come first.”
Telling her exactly how I feel about her is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. The honesty comes so naturally. It’s the months of hiding my feelings that have been unbearable. I breathe a huge sigh of relief when the weight of holding everything back disappears.
She laughs through her tears and places her hands on top of mine, looking up at me with the most beautiful smile. “I love you, too. I love you so much.”
I kiss her softly on the lips. My heart feels like it literally swells within my chest when she kisses me back. I wrap my arms around her and bury my face into her hair, pulling her tightly against me. I close my eyes, and it’s suddenly just the two of us. Me and this girl. This girl is in my arms again . . . touching me, kissing me, breathing me in, loving me back.
She’s not just a dream, anymore.
Lake moves her mouth to my ear and whispers, “We probably shouldn’t be doing this here.” I open my eyes and the concern on her face registers with me. She’s still a student. I’m still technically a teacher. This probably doesn’t look very good if anyone here knows us.
I reach down and take her hand, then pull her toward the exit. As soon as we’re outside, I grab her by the waist and push her against the door. I’ve been waiting months to be with her like this. Two more seconds without touching her and I. Will. Die.
I lower my hand to the small of her back, then lean in and kiss her again. The feeling I get when my lips are on hers is something I’ve thought about, over and over, since the first time I kissed her. But actually being in the moment with her again, knowing my feelings for her are reciprocated, is nothing short of amazing.
She runs her hands inside my jacket and up my back, pulling me to her as she returns my kiss. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do for the rest of my life than be wrapped up in her arms with her lips pressed to mine. But I know that despite what we’ve been through and despite how I feel about her, I’ve still got responsibilities. I don’t know how much more waiting she’s willing to do. The thought of it takes all of the excitement built up inside of me and crushes it.
I stop kissing her and wrap my hands in her hair, then pull her to my chest. I take a long, deep breath and she does the same, locking her hands together behind my back.
“Lake,” I say, stroking her hair. “I don’t know what will happen in the next few weeks. But I need you to know that if I can’t back out of my contract . . .”
She immediately jerks her head up and looks at me with more fear in her eyes than I’ve ever seen. She thinks I’m telling her I might not choose her, and the fact that something so absurd is running through her mind right now makes me hurt for her. This is how I’ve made her feel for the past three months and she thinks I’m doing it to her all over again.
“Will, you can’t do this to . . .”
I press my finger to her lips. “Shut up, babe. I’m not telling you we can’t be together. You’re stuck with me now whether you like it or not.” I pull her back to my chest. “All I’m trying to say is, if I can’t break out of my contract, it’s only four months. I just need you to promise that you’ll wait for me if it comes to that. We can’t let anyone know we’re together until I find out what I need to do.”
She nods against my shirt. “I promise. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”
I close my eyes and rest my cheek against her head, thankful that all the times I’ve pushed her away haven’t made her lose faith in me completely.
“This probably means we shouldn’t be standing out here like this,” I say. “You want to come to my car?”
I don’t wait for her to answer, because I need her to come to my car with me. I’m not ready to stop kissing her yet, but I can’t keep doing it so carelessly and in public like this. I grab her hand and lead her to my car. I open the passenger door, but rather than let her get in first, I sit in the seat and pull her onto my lap, then shut the door. I pull my keys out of my pocket and reach over to crank the car so it’ll warm up. She positions herself on my lap, straddling me. I acknowledge that our position is incredibly intimate, being as though I can count the number of times we’ve kissed on one hand, but it’s the only comfortable way to make out in a car.
I take her hands and pull them up between us, then kiss them. “I love you, Lake.”
She smiles. “Say it again. I love hearing you say that.”
“Good, because I love saying it. I love you.” I kiss her cheek, then her lips. “I love you,” I whisper again.
“One more time,” she says. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined hearing you say it. I’ve been hoping this whole time that whatever I was feeling wasn’t one-sided.”
The fact that she had no idea how I felt about her makes my chest ache. “I love you, Lake. So much. I’m so sorry for putting you through everything I’ve put you through.”
She shakes her head. “Will, you were doing the right thing. Or trying to, anyway. I get that. I just hope this is for real now, because you can’t push me away again. I can’t go through that again.”
Her words are like a knife to my heart, but deservedly so. I don’t know what I could do or say that could convince her that I’m here. I’m staying. I chose her this time.
Before I have the chance to convince her of that, she grabs my face and kisses me hard, causing me to groan under my breath. I slip my hands underneath her shirt and around to her back. The softness and warmth of her skin beneath my palms is a feeling I never want to forget.
As soon as my hands meet her skin, she takes my jacket in her fists and begins tugging it off me. I lean forward, still meshed to her mouth, and struggle to free myself from the jacket. Once it’s off, I toss it behind me and place my hands back underneath her shirt.
Touching her, kissing her, being with her . . . it feels so natural. So right.
I move my lips to the spot on her neck that drives me crazy. She tilts her neck to the side and moans quietly. I move my hands to her waist and tighten my grip while I trail kisses along her collarbone. I slowly inch my hands up her waist until my thumbs meet her bra. I can feel her heart hammering against her chest, and it causes my own heart to try to outrace hers. As soon as I slip my right thumb underneath her bra, she pulls back, away from my lips. She gasps for air.
I immediately pull my hands out from underneath her shirt and place them on her shoulders, silently cursing myself for being so impatient. I push her shoulders back in order to give us space to breathe. I lean my head back against the seat and close my eyes.
“I’m sorry.” I open my eyes and keep my head flush against the headrest. “I’m going too fast. I’m sorry. I’ve just imagined touching you so many times I feel like it’s so natural. I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head and pulls my hands away from her shoulders, holding them together between us. “It’s okay,” she says. “We’re both going too fast. I just need a moment. But it feels right, doesn’t it? It feels so right being with you.”
“That’s because it is right.”
She stares at me silently, then out of nowhere, she crushes her lips to mine again. I groan and wrap my arms tightly around her, pulling her back against me. As soon as she’s pressed against my chest, I place my hands on her shoulders and push her away. As soon as she’s apart from me, I pull her back to me for another kiss. This happens several times and I keep having to remind myself to slow down. I eventually have to push her off my lap and onto the driver’s seat. However, this doesn’t help, because as soon as she leans her back against the driver’s side door, I lean across the seat and kiss her again. Seeing how much I need her causes her to laugh, which makes me laugh at how pathetically desperate I’m acting right now. I somehow pull away and slump against the passenger door. I run my hand through my hair and grin at her.
“You’re really making this hard,” I laugh. “Pun intended.”
She smiles and even in the dark I can see her blush.
“Ugh!” I run my palms over my face and groan. “God, I want you so bad.” I lunge forward and kiss her, but place my hand on the doorknob. I yank it and the door opens up behind her. “Get out,” I say against her lips. “Go get in your car where you’re safe. I’ll see you when we get home.”
She nods and swings one of her legs out of the car, but I don’t want her to go. I grab her thigh and pull her back in and kiss her again. “Go,” I groan.
“I’m trying.” She laughs, pulling away from me. She climbs out of the car and I slide across the seats, following her straight out the car door.
“Where’d you park?” I ask her. I wrap my arms around her and press my lips to her ear.
“A few cars over,” she says, pointing behind her. I slide my hand into her back pocket and retrieve her keys, then walk her to her car. After I open the door for her and she climbs in, I lean in to kiss her one last time.
“Don’t go inside when you get home. I’m not finished kissing you,” I say.
She grins. “Yes, sir.”
I shut her door and once her Jeep is cranked, I tap my knuckles against the window and she rolls it down. I place my hand on the nape of her neck and lean through her window. “This drive home is about to be the longest thirty minutes of my life.” I kiss her on the temple and take a step back. “Love you.”
She rolls up her window, then places her palm against the glass. I lift my hand up to mirror hers, matching our fingertips together. She mouths, “I love you, too,” and begins backing away.
I wait until she’s out of the parking lot, then I walk back to my car.
I don’t understand it. I don’t understand how I went so long without her and now I feel like she’s such a vital part of me, I’ll die if I’m not touching her.
I’M NOT EVEN in my car for a minute before I dial her number. I’ve never called her without the conversation being linked to Kel or Caulder before. It feels good calling her for her.
She’s driving directly in front of me so I can see her reach for her phone when it rings. She tilts her head and holds the phone between her shoulder and her neck. “Hello?”
“You shouldn’t talk on the phone while you’re driving,” I tell her.
She laughs. “Well, you shouldn’t call me when you know I’m driving.”
“But I missed you.”
“I miss you, too,” she says. “I’ve missed you for the whole sixty seconds we’ve been apart,” she says sarcastically.
I laugh. “I want to talk to you while we drive, but I want you to put your phone on speaker and set it down.”
“Why?”
“Because,” I say, “it’s not safe for you to drive with your head cocked to the side like that.”
I can see her smile in her rearview mirror. She drops the phone and sits up straight. “Better?” she says.