LAINE
MY FEET ARE bouncy as I follow Nick upstairs. He flashes a glance back at me, and his eyes are fierce, with a sexy kind of darkness that makes me feel like a clumsy kid.
I am a woman, I tell myself so. I’m eighteen after all. Ready for this. Ready for him.
If only the butterflies whirling around my tummy would believe me.
He gestures me ahead at the landing, and I head for Jane’s room before it occurs to me that maybe he won’t want to… not in there… but he doesn’t say a word, just follows me in and closes the door behind us.
And then he stands.
Staring.
Watching.
“What?” I giggle.
“I’m looking at you,” he says, and my laughter dries up. “I love looking at you, Laine.”
He examines me, up and down, taking in every single gawky part of me, and I try not to worry about my littl
