Junkie(62)

“Noted,” he murmured. The blue of his eyes narrowed on my face, his gaze dropping to my lips.

He liked kissing me.

Euphoria made me lightheaded, and I covered my smile by turning back to pick up the mugs. When I carried them across the room, Drew’s eyes followed me, like he was hungry.

This is good. Let him think about it. Let him want without any pressure.

Everyone knew a warm engine went faster than a cold one.

“Wanna watch a movie?” I asked and extended the mug between us.

Surprise flickered in his eyes. Like he couldn’t believe we’d just devoured each other’s faces and now I was handing him coffee and suggesting a movie. I wanted to laugh out loud.

Did he want me to jump him?

Christ, I wanted to.

“Sure,” he finally said, straightening and reaching for the cup. I made sure our fingers didn’t brush when I handed it over.

The living room was dark; the only light was what came in from the kitchen. I knew the room well and didn’t need much light to guide me, so I didn’t bother to turn on the lamp. The dark might make it easier for him to think anyway.

The couch was across from the flat-screen hanging above the fireplace. In front of it was a white-painted coffee table we weren’t supposed to put our feet on. Ivy said so.

I set the coffee down, grabbed the remote, and sank into the cushions. Seconds later, I kicked off the shoes I was still wearing and propped my feet up on the table.

The back of the couch had some furry throw draped over it, and I leaned my head back against it while I flipped through the channels.

Drew was hovering close beside the couch, and I knew he was trying to decide if he was going to sit on it with me or in a nearby chair. I’d purposely left a lot of space on the end of the sofa.

“There’s a Terminator marathon on.” I motioned toward the screen. “I haven’t seen these in a long time.”

“It’s because the new Terminator just came out on DVD not very long ago,” Drew said and plopped down on the couch.

Score!

“Yeah? Sweet. We can rent it after we watch all these.”

Seconds later, his feet joined mine on the table (we weren’t touching), and it felt like a small victory. Hanging out like this was normal for us. Whatever normal was.

It was a good movie, entertaining. But I could only be entertained by it so much because part of my brain was so focused on his presence. On the way he smelled, the rhythm of his breathing. Every time he moved, I felt it. I was so attuned to his every move it was making me crazy.

Toward the end of the first movie, one of the more memorable lines came up, and we both quoted it along with the actor.

Both of us laughed and went for a high-five.

Only he didn’t let go.

The second our palms smacked together, Drew’s hand rotated and wrapped around mine.

My stomach literally dropped. Like I’d just jumped off a cliff.

Our hands lowered toward the cushions between us, and then tentatively, Drew threaded his fingers through mine.

I felt like I was in eighth grade again and I was on my first date at the movies. I’d sweated through my shirt I was so incredibly nervous. It had taken me until the last five minutes of the movie to reach for my date’s hand. And when she didn’t pull away, I literally thought I was the shit.

“Is this okay?” he asked. His voice was low and reminded me so much of that eighth grader I was just thinking of.

I couldn’t help it. I glanced down at our entwined hands. “It’s better than okay,” I whispered.

He turned back to the movie. I did, too, but I didn’t even see the screen. I couldn’t even have told you what was playing. All I felt was his palm against mine. The way his fingers folded into mine perfectly. I didn’t engulf his hand; he didn’t engulf mine. It was like a perfect match.

My dick went back to its previously rigid state. I was beginning to think this could be a problem.

I didn’t want him to see and freak. So with my free hand, I pulled the blanket down from behind my head and tossed it over my lap.

Drew glanced at me, then back to the TV. He totally knew what I was doing. That was one thing about trying to hide a hard-on from another dude. It was kinda impossible. Drew knew all the tricks, too.

He didn’t call me out, though, and he didn’t pull back his hand.

When the first movie went off, he dropped his feet off the table, and my stomach tightened. I wasn’t ready to get up yet. I wasn’t ready for him to get up yet.

“I gotta piss,” he announced and stood.

When he was out of sight, I wondered if maybe he used the bathroom as an excuse to let go of my hand.

“You want anything from the kitchen?” he called.

All I need is you. “Nah! I’m good!”