Boys Like Him

Safe answer

I gripped the wooden rail of the fence, the rough texture grounding me. I felt like I had just escaped a riptide, and I was still waiting for the world to stop spinning.

"Too much?"

The voice was low, cutting through the quiet without shattering it. I didn't even have to turn around to know it was him.

I opened my eyes but kept them fixed on the dark horizon. "Just needed to hear myself think for a second. Your friends are... high energy."

I heard the soft thud-thud of his footsteps on the grass before he leaned against the fence beside me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him loosen his collar, the silver of his watch catching the moonlight.

"They're a lot," Lloyd admitted, his voice dropping into that private, intimate register he'd used when we were dancing. "Especially when they've been drinking and winning. I forget sometimes that not everyone spends their life in a locker room or a mosh pit."

He turned his head to look at me, and even in the shadows, his gaze was intense. "You okay, Nyelle? You looked a little like you were drowning back there."

I finally turned to face him, leaning my back against the fence so I could look up at him. The cool air had given me back my bravado, but it hadn't erased the memory of how he'd felt against me just minutes ago.

"I'm fine," I responded, though my voice was a little breathier than I intended. "I just... I'm not used to being the 'famous' guest of honor's plus-one. It's a lot of eyes."

"Well," he stepped a fraction closer, his shadow falling over me, "for what it's worth, you're the only one I wanted to be looking at."

The sincerity in his tone caught me off guard, making that knot in my stomach tighten again, but for a very different reason this time. The distance between us was closing, and the cool night air was starting to feel very, very warm again.

"You say that like you've practiced it," I murmured. I reached out, my fingers trembling just a hair as I toyed with the edge of his loosened collar.

Lloyd let out a short, rough laugh, his hand coming up to rest on the fence on either side of me, effectively pinning me into his space. "I haven't. Trust me, if I were practicing, I'd be doing a much better job of keeping my cool right now."

I looked up at him and saw the c***k in his composure, the way his pupils were blown wide, and his jaw set tight. The bravado I'd felt in the cool air melted into a sudden, sharp craving. I didn't want to talk anymore. I didn't want to be Nyelle, the girl who felt out of place. I just wanted to feel that heat again.

I leaned in, closing the final inch of distance until my lips brushed against his.

He groaned low in his throat and kissed me back with a sudden, bruising intensity. His hands left the fence to frame my face, his thumbs sweeping over my cheekbones as he tilted my head to take the kiss deeper. It wasn't polite, or a "plus-one" kiss. It was hungry and desperate, a collision of all the tension we'd been building since the first song started.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer until there wasn't a breath of space left between us. The cool night air was gone, replaced by the fire of his skin and the way he tasted like high-end whiskey and pure, unadulterated want. My fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging slightly, and I felt him shudder against me, sliding his hands down my back to pull me firmly against the very thing I'd been wondering about earlier.

Out here, under the stars and away from the noise, the "what-if" became a very vivid "right now."

The cool night air bit at my damp lips as he pulled away, his breathing ragged, his chest heaving against mine.

"Wait," he rasped, his eyes searching mine, dark and clouded with a heavy layer of restraint. "Nyelle... how much have you had to drink tonight? I need to know you're with me. Really with me."

I blinked, my head spinning from the sheer magnetic pull of him. "I've had two drinks, Lloyd. Over three hours. I'm not drunk." My voice was steadier than I felt.

He took a slow, grounding breath, tracing the line of my jaw with his thumb, a tenderness that made my throat tight. "I just... I don't want you to wake up tomorrow and regret this. I value what we have. I value our friendship too much to let a high-adrenaline night ruin it."

A friendship. It was the safe answer. The gentleman's answer. Usually, I was the girl who weighed every consequence, mapped out the "what-ifs" until the spark died out. But looking at him now, the man of the hour, the man who had been pressing against me with such raw intent just minutes ago, something inside me shifted. A dormant, reckless energy flared to life in my veins.

I wanted to be the girl who didn't care about tomorrow. I wanted to scratch the itch that had been burning since the second we met. I wanted to be wild, uncalculated, and utterly consumed.

"f**k it," I whispered.

I didn't give him time to argue. I surged forward, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling him back down to me. I poured every bit of that new, terrifying confidence into it, my tongue seeking his, my body molding itself to his heat with a boldness that surprised even me.

For a heartbeat, he stiffened, his internal battle playing out in the tension of his shoulders. Then, with a low, defeated growl, he gave in. He kissed me back with a ferocity that made my knees weak, sliding his hands down to grip my hips, pulling me flush against him so I could feel exactly how much he'd been holding back.

He broke the kiss to press his forehead against mine, both of us gasping for air. His eyes were predatory now, the "gentleman" having been thoroughly shoved aside.

"Not here," he muttered. "Someone will come looking for me."

He didn't wait for an answer. He reached down, interlacing his fingers with mine in a grip that was tight and possessive. Instead of heading back toward the house where the lights were bright and the music was screaming, he turned toward the tree line at the edge of the property.

He led me away from the gravel, past the manicured lawn, and deep into the shadows of the woods. The sound of the party faded into a dull throb, replaced by the snap of dry twigs under our feet and the heavy, rhythmic sound of our breathing. The further we went into the darkness, the more the world outside ceased to exist. There was only the heat of his hand, the scent of the pines, and the exhilarating terror of what was about to happen.