Landon and I still had our sharp tongues. We still hurled insults toward each other daily, but they felt so lighthearted, flirty, and fun. Sometimes he’d smile at me, and I’d be smiling all day from his little smirk alone.
I wrote down everything about him in my notebook. Before the bet had even started, I’d already filled a notebook with my thoughts on Landon. I’d started it the night of his uncle’s funeral. I couldn’t get him off my mind after that, and every now and then, I’d add my thoughts on the type of person Landon was. After the bet, I started journaling about him a lot more. Lately, the narrative had shifted. The story of the boy I once hated turned into something new every time he showed me a part of him that he hid from the rest of the world. He was one of the most complex characters I’d ever had the honor of studying, and if we kept down this road, it would be my heart that was going to fall first and hard, not his.
Plus, he’d become my outlet from my home drama. Tension was building up in my family, and now the arguments seemed much more common between Mom and Mima. Those two had never fought when Dad was locked up. They loved each other so much whenever he wasn’t in the picture. I hated that he was creating a crack in a bond that was so strong while he was gone.
When I needed a break, I went to Landon and lost myself in him, in us—whatever we were. He always welcomed me in, too. No matter the time or the last-minuteness of me reaching out to him, he always told me to come over. I was thankful for that, for his willingness to let me in.
I told him it was simply so we could rehearse. I think he knew it was more than that. I think he was learning to read me the same way I was reading him. He never asked me for details. If anyone knew how important it was to escape from life sometimes, it was Landon.
That Saturday was no different. He was there when I needed him to be.
“We should really be rehearsing.” I giggled in between short kisses. I’d finally managed to enter his house to work on our scenes together, but I forbade myself from going to his bedroom.
“We are rehearsing,” he muttered against my lips as he placed his hands under my butt and pulled me into his lap.
I wrapped my arms around him and shook my head as I gently sucked on his bottom lip. “I mean we should be rehearsing our lines.”
“These are our lines,” he mumbled, sliding his tongue into my mouth and forcing a moan to escape me as I felt the hardness in his sweatpants. I definitely shouldn’t have been sitting in his lap, because as he grew, my desire to grind against him grew, too.
I slid off, moving to the left side of the couch, feeling bashful about it all. It wasn’t the first time I’d felt Landon’s happy member since we’d started making out on the regular, but it still always made me blush. I pulled my shirt up to my mouth and chewed on the collar, trying to hide my nerves.
“You do that a lot, you know—chew when you’re nervous,” he told me, running his hands through his hair.
“You do that a lot.” I nodded toward him. “Run your hands through your hair when you’re turned on.”
“Well, you keep turning me on.” He smirked, grabbing me again and placing me back onto his lap. He rocked his hips upward ever so slightly, pressing himself against my jeans. My thighs began to quiver, and my heartbeats intensified instantly. Oh my gosh, he was dry-humping me... at least I thought that was what was happening. I’d never been in the dry-humping phase, seeing as how I’d never made it to first base with any guy.
“You’re just so easy to turn on,” I pushed out, my head feeling dizzy. I wondered if this was what it felt like to be high—dazed, confused, fan-freaking-tastic.
A slight moan escaped my lips as he pressed his hips up and kept them there. I closed my eyes in bliss as he began rubbing back and forth against my jeans. My forehead fell to his.
“Yes...” I whispered, which made him grind even more. My fingers landed on his shoulder blades, and I dug in ever so slightly as he moved his lips to my neck and began sucking. “Yes...” I muttered once more, loving it more and more as he continued doing it.
He groaned against my skin as his voice went deep and smoky. “Let me taste,” he begged, grunting against my neck.
My mind was clouded, I could hardly breathe, and oh my gosh, how did this feel so good?
“I... I’ve never...” I’d never had a boy go down on me before, and I wanted it, but I also knew if we crossed those lines... “No,” I said hurriedly, leaping out of his lap. “No, no, no.”
I stood and shook my hands and kicked my legs around.
He sat straighter and cocked an eyebrow, though that wasn’t the only thing he was cocking up, that was for sure. His rock-hard member was trying its best to burst right out of those sweatpants.
Guys shouldn’t have been allowed to wear sweatpants around us gals. It made it almost impossible to think straight.
“What is it?” he asked.
I started pacing back and forth. “This is just part of the bet. I got caught up in the moment, but this is the bet.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Shay, this isn’t the bet. This is just you and me right now.”
“And what are we exactly?”
“I don’t know, we’re just us. You’re overthinking it.”
“I’m not. I mean, I am, but I don’t know how not to. If the bet wasn’t hanging over my head, I would just be free willy about it and all, but the bet does exist, whether I like it or not. And I can’t just hook up with you, OK? I can’t.”
“OK.”