least have to agree that fate has thrown us together once again. Four times actually—what are the odds?
Should I ask him why he ignored me last week? No, I’ll act laid back. I don’t want to sound like a desperate girl. I’m not desperate, but I must confess, I’m a bit of interest in him there. To think that after our first meeting I hoped we’d never see each other again. Then when our second one happened…I hoped he had been right. Fate, destiny, the stars…something had to work in my favor because I haven’t been able to get those mesmerizing eyes out of my dreams and fantasies.
With a guy like that, I’d have to be dead not to think about a kiss—or something more, with the reaction his touch provokes within my body. Maybe it’s my inexperience; not him. Either way, I dig this blue-eyed funny boy, and being with him sounds better than heading back to my depressing home where I will only end up daydreaming about him and his potential hot kisses.
Maybe those fantasies I’ve had are about to become a reality as we enter a building, climb up three flights of stairs, and enter the only door on that floor. The presence of a huge piano in the middle of the room, and next to it a set of drums, brings my worries and illusions to an abrupt stop. There’re a few guitars lying around, and some other instruments whose names I don’t know. It’s a room dominated by objects that belong in an auditorium, a shop, or maybe a stadium where a band can play an entire show. Not an apartment. There’s no dining table nor is there a couch. I spot an air hockey table instead.
Who has instruments and games as their main furniture?
Jacob releases my hand and heads to the first room. Instead of following, I approach the drums and tap the cymbals with the tips of my fingers, then move over to the piano, where I slide onto the bench. Once upon a time, Mom and I sat in front of the piano. She taught me the major scale and promised to teach me how to play. However, she was so busy that it never happened. By the time I turned eight, my parents sold the piano—the one object I believed would bring Mom and me together.
“Here, wear this.” Jacob hands me a blue sweatshirt. As I slip on the garment, the whiff of sandalwood makes me sigh. “You think you’ll be warm enough?”
“Depends.” At that moment, my shoulders relax—his plans don’t include taking off my clothes. “Are you planning on taking me to the North Pole?” Or are we having sex? Stop, Pria. He said not unless I wanted. I don’t want sex. Only kisses. Yes, several of those. The place where his lips touched my skin continues to sizzle. Not even the light, cold wind has affected that area.
I talk myself out of that nonsense. This isn’t the time to think about what we could do in this empty apartment. After all, seventeen and a virgin isn’t bad. I’ll worry when I turn fifty and I still live at my parents’ place, caring for my sister.
Wait. I sound like my sister.
“No, we’re heading upstairs. It can get chilly, but I have a blanket too. If all else fails, I’ll keep you warm.”
A tie of hot blood wraps around my neck as I imagine the ways he can warm me up under that blanket. Clean thoughts! If my mom finds out what I’m thinking or what I’m doing, she’s going to send me to the priest to confess all my sins.
“Come on, let’s go upstairs.” Upstairs? That gets my attention. Jacob pulls me to a standing position and I stare at those breathtaking eyes. “But first, let’s find some food. Anything you don’t like or would prefer to eat?”
I shrug and take another glance at the piano.
“That’s a pretty piano. Big for this apartment, but nice.” Clamping my lips together, I don’t point out that the rest of his furniture doesn’t belong here.
“It’s one of the best birthday presents my parents have ever given me. It was Dad’s piano—his first one.” His boyish smile makes me want to kiss him on the lips as he tells me
Should I ask him why he ignored me last week? No, I’ll act laid back. I don’t want to sound like a desperate girl. I’m not desperate, but I must confess, I’m a bit of interest in him there. To think that after our first meeting I hoped we’d never see each other again. Then when our second one happened…I hoped he had been right. Fate, destiny, the stars…something had to work in my favor because I haven’t been able to get those mesmerizing eyes out of my dreams and fantasies.
With a guy like that, I’d have to be dead not to think about a kiss—or something more, with the reaction his touch provokes within my body. Maybe it’s my inexperience; not him. Either way, I dig this blue-eyed funny boy, and being with him sounds better than heading back to my depressing home where I will only end up daydreaming about him and his potential hot kisses.
Maybe those fantasies I’ve had are about to become a reality as we enter a building, climb up three flights of stairs, and enter the only door on that floor. The presence of a huge piano in the middle of the room, and next to it a set of drums, brings my worries and illusions to an abrupt stop. There’re a few guitars lying around, and some other instruments whose names I don’t know. It’s a room dominated by objects that belong in an auditorium, a shop, or maybe a stadium where a band can play an entire show. Not an apartment. There’s no dining table nor is there a couch. I spot an air hockey table instead.
Who has instruments and games as their main furniture?
Jacob releases my hand and heads to the first room. Instead of following, I approach the drums and tap the cymbals with the tips of my fingers, then move over to the piano, where I slide onto the bench. Once upon a time, Mom and I sat in front of the piano. She taught me the major scale and promised to teach me how to play. However, she was so busy that it never happened. By the time I turned eight, my parents sold the piano—the one object I believed would bring Mom and me together.
“Here, wear this.” Jacob hands me a blue sweatshirt. As I slip on the garment, the whiff of sandalwood makes me sigh. “You think you’ll be warm enough?”
“Depends.” At that moment, my shoulders relax—his plans don’t include taking off my clothes. “Are you planning on taking me to the North Pole?” Or are we having sex? Stop, Pria. He said not unless I wanted. I don’t want sex. Only kisses. Yes, several of those. The place where his lips touched my skin continues to sizzle. Not even the light, cold wind has affected that area.
I talk myself out of that nonsense. This isn’t the time to think about what we could do in this empty apartment. After all, seventeen and a virgin isn’t bad. I’ll worry when I turn fifty and I still live at my parents’ place, caring for my sister.
Wait. I sound like my sister.
“No, we’re heading upstairs. It can get chilly, but I have a blanket too. If all else fails, I’ll keep you warm.”
A tie of hot blood wraps around my neck as I imagine the ways he can warm me up under that blanket. Clean thoughts! If my mom finds out what I’m thinking or what I’m doing, she’s going to send me to the priest to confess all my sins.
“Come on, let’s go upstairs.” Upstairs? That gets my attention. Jacob pulls me to a standing position and I stare at those breathtaking eyes. “But first, let’s find some food. Anything you don’t like or would prefer to eat?”
I shrug and take another glance at the piano.
“That’s a pretty piano. Big for this apartment, but nice.” Clamping my lips together, I don’t point out that the rest of his furniture doesn’t belong here.
“It’s one of the best birthday presents my parents have ever given me. It was Dad’s piano—his first one.” His boyish smile makes me want to kiss him on the lips as he tells me
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