Purity: A Friends-to-Lovers College Romance

WHAT JUST HAPPENED?

Cole had looked bewildered, which I guess is reasonable considering how much I’ve insisted over the years that I would only date another Christian. Could that have prevented him from being with me all this time?

Many years ago, when I was so devout that I couldn’t understand how anyone wouldn’t want to be a Christian, it seemed like only a small barrier. It seemed that if he really liked me, he would come to church with me. He would at least ask me to share my faith with him, because that’s what you do when you’re interested in someone you really like. It was so simple.

I was so selfish and naive. I expected him to change his whole worldview when I wasn’t willing to compromise my beliefs in any way.

I hadn’t thought about any of this for a long time. Over the last few months, in an effort to squash the delusional hope I’ve harbored for years, I’ve told myself over and over again that he doesn’t want me. He doesn’t touch me. He doesn’t flirt with me. He loves me as a platonic friend, and he always will.

It takes me a moment to find Travis in the crowd. He’s sitting in the exact spot I left him. I take a deep breath to steel myself before heading in his direction. After whatever just happened outside, my first instinct is to forget all about my plans for tonight and spend the evening with Cole, but I can’t do that. That’s what the old me would do. I always drop everything for him, and I still don’t even know what his reaction was about. He got skittish when I asked him about it.

I form a smile on my face as I approach Travis. When I set a hand on his shoulder, he turns to me and grins widely like he’s delighted to see me.

Maybe he isn’t so bad.

“Do you know where Mari is?” I ask.

“I think she’s still on the dance floor.” He sets his hand on my shoulder and guides me to the bar stool next to his. “I just ordered something for you. I think you’re going to like it.”

I glance at the wooden counter. “What happened to my drink?”

“I downed it after you left with Cole.”

“Oh…”

“I could tell you didn’t like it but were too nice to tell me.”

I lick my lips, lifting a hand and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “It was just a little strong.”

The bartender appears and places three small glasses in front of Travis. My eyes widen. “Shots?

Is one of these for me?”

Travis grins. “They’re all for you. It’s the perfect solution. You can get drunk without having to taste the alcohol.”

“All for me? That’s a lot to drink.”

“You’ll be fine.” He leans in close, his breath brushing over my face as he says, “I don’t know why Cole’s being so weird about you drinking when he passed out in my bathroom the last time we went out drinking. He’s freaking you out for no reason. Even if you get drunk fast, you’ll be fine. Trust me.”

I take a deep breath and glance down at the shots. Even if I do get sick, who cares? Both Cole and Mari have gotten so drunk that they’ve puked, and that didn’t stop them from going out and partying again. Besides, this is supposed to be an adventure. I should be going all out.

When I reach out and grab one of the shots, Travis pats my back. “Yes!”

I clench my fingers around the glass and lift it to my mouth. Nervousness flutters through me, but with it is a mixture of exhilaration. I throw the shot back into my mouth the same way I’ve seen other people do it, and thankfully, only a slight burn trails down my throat.

“That’s my girl!” Travis claps.

“Livvy!” I twist around and see Mari and Zac making their way through the crowd. “Did you really just take a shot?”

I smile widely. “It burned, and I loved it!”

“Isn’t she so cute?” Travis wraps his arms around me and pulls my back against his chest. “It was a Lemon Drop too. A Lemon Drop burned her throat.”

I don’t know what a Lemon Drop is, but I can tell he’s making fun of me, and I don’t care. For the first time, I’m living like a regular college student.

He presses a kiss against my cheek. “You should hurry up and get another shot down before your nanny comes back.”

I wince. “Another one? I don’t even feel this one yet.”

He laughs. “You’ll be fine.”

My gaze darts to Mari. “Do you think I should take another one?”

“It’s up to you. You said you wanted to go all out, and you have plenty of people here to take care of you.” Her smile grows cheeky. “You have one person who will take extra good care of you if you get too drunk.”

“Yeah, but he’ll be mad.” I glance around the area. “He told me I should only have one drink an hour.”

“I think you should do it while he’s not looking,” Zac says. “But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Dude!” Travis shouts. “Cole needs to chill the fuck out. Why is he like this with her? She shouldn’t be scared to take shots.” He looks at me. “Don’t let him get into your head. Do what you want to do.”

Mari leans forward, raising her voice over the noise of the crowd. “I agree with him. I love Cole to death, but sometimes he acts like if he touches you too hard, you’ll shatter. And the whole problem is that you’re scared you might shatter.”

She’s right. She’s absolutely right. And the biggest problem of all is that I let Cole treat me like I might shatter because I was trained to let men take care of me.

That has to stop. I have to take care of myself.

I grab another one of the shots and throw it back. The cheers of the others register at the back of my mind, but I have to stay focused if I’m going to get through this. After inwardly plugging my nose, I lift the next shot, not wanting to give my brain time to register disgust. Within seconds, the burning liquid is trailing down my throat.

“Holy shit!” Mari shouts. “I can’t believe you actually did that.”

Exhilaration courses through my veins. I can’t believe I did it either. I turn to Mari, beaming. “I’m aging fast tonight. You had your first shot at what… Sixteen? Seventeen?”

“Fifteen.”

I smile, surprised that I don’t feel even the slightest pang of resentment she never told me about it.

It’s probably because she knew I would have been disappointed in her. It used to bother me when these little facts slipped out over the years as she grew more comfortable opening up to me, but not anymore.

“So I just turned fifteen,” I say. “Hopefully, by the end of the night—”

“What was that?” Cole’s deep, rumbly voice sends a shiver down my spine. When I turn around, all the bewilderment in his eyes is gone. He’s glaring at Travis like he’s ready to punch him.

Goodness, I need to defuse this. I can’t let them fight over me again.

I smile at Cole as warmth drifts over my body like a low morning tide. Is this the alcohol? It feels lovely.

“I just took two shots back-to-back,” I say, “and it was amazing.”

When I giggle, Cole’s scowl grows. “I was out there for ten minutes at the most. Why do you look drunk already?”

My gaze snaps to Travis. “Could they have kicked in that fast?”

He shakes his head. “You’re probably feeling that first shot.”

“That first shot?” Cole is all but yelling now. “Are you telling me she’s had three shots in the amount of time I was outside? Fuck. I never should have left her alone for even a minute.” He looks at Mari and Zac. “Where were you guys?”

Mari crosses her arms over her chest. “What Livvy drinks is entirely up to her. Calm down, Daddy.”

He shakes his head, his jaw tightening.

“It’s okay, Cole.” Zac sets his hand on his shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Just let her have fun.”

“She’s five foot nothing!” He gestures over me. “She’s going to start stumbling around in a couple of minutes.”

“So what if I do? Right now, I just want to dance!” I lift my hands in the air and sway to the music, gyrating my hips in a way I’ve only ever done in front of Mari and Vanessa.

Oh man, this feels good. Somehow, my limbs are looser and my hips are more fluid. I glance at Travis, gesturing toward the dance floor. “Let’s go!”

He grins as he grabs me by the waist. I twist around to give Cole a reassuring smile, but his grim expression freezes my face. His anger is mixed with something else… Desolation, maybe, like I’m being pulled away for good, and he’ll never be able to reach me.

“Don’t get pregnant!” Zac shouts, and Cole’s expression grows even darker.

Travis laughs and pulls me onto the dance floor. I sway my hips to the beat. Just as I find a rhythm I like, he pulls my body against his. He presses his hips into mine while we dance. It’s amazing that I don’t want to pull back.

Has alcohol really squashed all of my fear?

I test it by stepping away from Travis and turning my back to him. I peek over my shoulder while I whirl my hips. When he sends an appreciative look over my body, I laugh. My butt is jiggling, and I don’t even care.

His warm hands touch my bare shoulders, and he yanks my back against his chest. “Oh man, you’re fun when you’re drunk.”

I smile as I lean back. His body is warm and hard, just like Cole’s was last night. That kiss. The way he held me tightly and pressed his hips into my belly, like he needed more. I needed more too.

His warm hand drifts down my side, and heat pools in my belly. Yes. This is what I need.

Something soft and wet presses against my neck, and I hum.

When I open my eyes, Cole’s face immediately comes into view. Why is he so far away? His body is utterly still, and his expression is blank, like he’s shocked.

“Do you like that?” Travis’s voice vibrates in my ear, and a jolt of alarm punctures my heavy daze. How did I forget about Travis? When I twist around to look at his face, my stomach does an unpleasant little turn. There are two of him. There are actually two of him, like I’ve seen in movies. I blink hard, and when I open my eyes, the images are fused, but only for a moment, and then they split into two again.

This isn’t good.

“Yeah, I liked that,” I say, hoping to hide my nervousness.

He smiles and pulls me close, and the warmth of his body eases some of my anxiety, but the feeling is short lived.

Travis pulls away from me so suddenly that I almost lose my balance. A firm grip on my arm pulls me upright.

“What the fuck?” Travis shouts.

“She’s not going anywhere near you,” Cole grits out. “I’m taking her home.”

My sluggish confusion quickly shifts into indignation. “I’m not going home now. The night’s barely started.”

When Cole turns to me, his jaw is set, but his eyes are softer than they were a moment ago. “I’ve been watching you for the last half hour. You’re really drunk, Liv. Too drunk.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Half hour? I’ve only been dancing for, like, two minutes.”

“Trust me, it’s been half an hour, and he’s been getting handsier every second.” His expression grows hard as his gaze shifts to Travis.

“Dude, chill the fuck out. I didn’t do anything she didn’t want me to do.”

I’m about to open my mouth to agree with him when nausea overtakes me suddenly. I turn around and rush in the direction of the door. The mugginess of the warm bodies around me makes bile rise at the back of my throat. I don’t make it far before a pair of strong hands grip my waist.

“I’ve got you.”

Cole’s voice sends a rush of warmth through me, momentarily distracting me from my sickness.

He cuts through the crowd with such force that most people step away to let him through.

As soon as we make it outside, I inhale a deep breath of ocean air, and it instantly calms the stirring in my gut.

“Are you okay?” His voice is gentle.

“I’m fine.” At least I have the wherewithal to recognize that my words aren’t quite precise.

“Sweetheart, you’re wasted. If you’re not feeling good, just tell me.”

“I’m a little dizzy. I think the shots finally fully hit me.”

When he tightens his grip on my waist and pulls my back against his chest, electricity shoots into my gut. “What can I get for you?”

I relax into his warmth. “Let’s go to another bar. Just the two of us.”

He jerks back. “No, I’m taking you home. You’ve had way too much.”

“We can’t leave Mariana.”

“She’ll be fine. Zac already promised to get her home safe.”

I frown. “I want to dance more.”

“That’s the alcohol talking. If I let you on a dance floor, you’re going to fall over.”

I twist around in his grip so that I can stare up into his eyes. “Then dance with me. You can hold me up.”

Something flashes in his eyes, but then he looks away. “No. We’ll try this again another night. Come to my place now so you can rest before I take you home. That way you don’t have to worry about your parents seeing you drunk.”

Goodness, resting at his place sounds so good. He’ll probably rub my back until I fall asleep, like the time I got sick at his apartment. He’s so caring.

But also incredibly domineering.

I lift my chin. “I want to dance more.”

He looks like he’s fighting an eye roll. “You’re drunk.”

“I am drunk, and I want to dance.”

Now he rolls his eyes in earnest. “Alright. Obviously, you’re even drunker than I thought.” His hold on my waist tightens, and I shriek as he lifts me into his arms and cradles me against his chest.

He carries me down the sidewalk toward his car. After opening the passenger door, he sets me gently inside.

He crouches down, poking his head into the car. “I’m going inside to get your purse. I won’t be gone more than a minute. Don’t stumble off anywhere, Angel.”

He says it with a smile because he doesn’t think there’s a chance in hell I’d actually leave. I always do as he says. I’ve never had a reason not to.

Do I have a reason now, or do I just feel like I do because I’m drunk?

There’s something strangely exhilarating about the thought of Cole coming out of that bar and finding me gone after he ordered me to stay in here.

As soon as his back disappears inside, I leap from my seat and run down the sidewalk. I throw my head back and lift my arms high in the air. I’m so lightheaded and buoyant, I could drift into the sky like a helium balloon.

Eventually, I slow my pace, because although drunkenness might feel like magic at the moment, it doesn’t seem to have given me magical stamina. While I catch my breath, I realize I’m standing in front of the Tiki bar that Mari had planned on taking me to tonight.

My stomach flips as I walk inside. Here I am at a bar alone after ditching my domineering best friend who acts like a jealous boyfriend but doesn’t want to have sex with me.

I’m standing up for myself.

I glance around the misty bar, unsure of where to go next. I don’t want another drink, and there isn’t a dance floor in here. I’m just about ready to turn around and search for another bar when a guy waves me over to a group of people sitting in the back corner. I don’t hesitate to walk in their direction, and I’m amazed anew at the effectiveness of alcohol in taking away my fear.

Only the faintest pang of regret punctures my boozy haze. Cole is going to be worried when he finds me gone.

How long have I been gone?

As I get closer to the group, the mist clears, and their images grow sharper. Goodness, it’s all guys.

“I know you,” a blond guy says, his gaze roaming my body. “You go to UCSB, right? Where have I seen you before?”

“I’m not sure…” I scan his face. “You don’t look familiar.”

He shrugs. “Oh, well. Why don’t you come over here so we can get to know each other?”

When he pats his thigh, my mouth drops open. Does he really expect me to sit on his lap when I don’t even know him? Distantly, I recognize that the other guys are laughing.

“Why do you have to be so fucking creepy?” one of them says before looking at me. “Don’t do it, beautiful. Come sit next to me instead.”

“There’s no room.” The blond guy smiles at me. “You’ll be way more comfortable on my lap.”

“The fuck she will.” Cole’s booming voice is like a soft blanket, even though I know he’s furious with me.

“Oh shit!” the blond guy says, and all the others start laughing. “I’m so sorry, man. She didn’t say she has a boyfriend.”

Cole ignores him and turns to me. His blazing eyes send a chill down my spine. I’ve never seen him look so angry. “You can either walk out with me now, or I’m carrying you.”

I lower my gaze to the floor. “I’ll go with you.”

“Good choice.” He grabs my hand and squeezes it tightly. My stomach lurches as he pulls me through the bar. His usual athletic grace is gone. His posture is so rigid he looks like he might snap in two.

When we make it outside, he lets go of my hand and turns to me. “What the fuck has gotten into you?”

Oh Jesus, he’s never cursed at me before. He’s never spoken to me with so much contempt. With effort, I raise my chin and hold his stare, though my eyes are starting to prickle.

“I told you I want to stay out, and you didn’t listen to me.” My voice doesn’t sound nearly as firm as I want.

His jaw clenches. “I can’t believe you just did that. I never would have expected it of you in a million years, even drunk.”

I take a deep breath to keep my lips from quivering. “I wanted an adventure.”

“An adventure,” he scoffs. “You ran off in the middle of the night with drunk people everywhere when you can barely stand up straight. You don’t even have your phone on you, so I had no way of finding you. I was lucky I walked in there.”

“I’m sorry.” My voice is small.

He shakes his head. “This is so unlike you. I wasn’t even totally sure you ran off. I thought maybe someone kidnapped you.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You’re not forgiven.” He steps back and takes a deep, shaky breath, setting his hand at the center of his chest. “My heart is still pounding. I was so worried.”

He doesn’t sound angry now, and it’s the final straw. I lose what’s left of my flimsy drunken self-control. The first tear rolls down my cheek, and I can’t stop my face from scrunching up. When his eyes grow huge, I turn away, unable to bear the humiliation. “Just give me a second.”

I keep my gaze fixed on the concrete as I take a few steps. The cold, misty wind brushing over my hot cheeks is a momentary relief. “I won’t go far, I promise.”

“Livvy, oh my God.” His voice has returned to its usual gentleness, but it doesn’t lessen my shame.

I hate being so soft. It’s so humiliating. Even when I try to be adventurous, I’m still weak and timid.

Maybe I can’t blame my upbringing for my subservience. Maybe I made the ideal obedient Christian girl because I was born this way, and nothing I do will ever change that.

When I’m yanked against a hard chest, I release the breath I was holding.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I can’t believe I made you cry. I’m an asshole. I shouldn’t have gotten so mad at you when you’re drunk. It was my fault for leaving you alone.”

His anger would be easier to bear than his tenderness in my fragile mood. In the end, I can’t help but bury my head against his chest and cry. My heaving sobs only make my humiliation that much more acute.

“Oh God, Livvy, you’re killing me right now. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m just stupidly sensitive.” My voice is muffled against his chest, and he squeezes me so tightly that, for a moment, I can’t take a breath.

“Aww, sweetheart, I know you’re sensitive, and it’s okay. I can’t believe I just yelled at you.

What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“You’re a natural leader.” My stomach lurches. “And I’m a natural follower.”

“A leader,” he scoffs. “I’ve been acting like a fucking dictator with you tonight.” He presses his cheek against my head. “And you’re not a follower. You’re just considerate, and I’ve only been thinking about myself. I promise to try harder. You want to stay out and drink more? I’ll keep you safe.”

“No, I want to go home, and you were being kind of a dictator, but not about this. I’d be so mad at you if you made me worried on purpose, but you wouldn’t cry like a baby about it. I wish I wasn’t so sensitive. I always cry when people get mad at me…” Another wave of humiliation washes over me, and I sob even harder.

He brushes his lips over the top of my head, sending tingles into my scalp. Goodness, he’s touched me more in the past twenty-four hours than he has during our whole friendship.

It feels so good.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed for being sensitive. I love that about you.”

Hearing the word love on his lips nearly breaks me. My body becomes a deadweight in his arms, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“I hate it. It makes me weak.”

“No, it doesn’t.” His voice is firm. “You’re compassionate and in tune with other people’s emotions. Those are strengths.”

I laugh humorlessly, but it sounds more like a sob. “I’m only compassionate because it makes me feel terrible to be any other way. I feel terrible when I hurt or disappoint people. It’s not real compassion. It’s fear.”

He squeezes me tightly. “Livvy, that’s silly. Most people are too busy thinking about themselves to care about whether they’ve hurt or disappointed people. Don’t discount your kindness just because it comes naturally to you.”

“But it isn’t just compassion. I’m a huge pushover and people pleaser.”

I lift my head and look into his deep brown eyes. They’re heavy-lidded and tender, and only belatedly do I realize that his warm fingers are caressing the skin around my ear. Liquid heat fills my belly in a rush.

“What?” His voice is thick.

I can’t allow myself to be this way anymore. I need to be assertive. I need to ask for what I want as if I’m worthy of it.

“I’m asking you again to take my virginity, and I want you to answer me this time. If you don’t want to do it, just tell me.”

Cole

MY ARMS ARE AROUND HER, and the pads of my fingers are brushing against the soft skin around her ears. Fuck. What am I doing? How did I forget myself?

I can’t think when I’m close to her like this, and I need time to think. I can’t answer her now.

Not after the bomb she dropped earlier tonight. Having sex with her would mean so much more than what I thought when she first made her proposal.

It could be the beginning of something.

Fuck, my chest constricts tightly again. I could be with her. She could be mine.

But it would only be temporary.

I set my hands on her shoulders and go to gently push her away, but she holds me tightly. “We can’t talk about this now,” I say. “Not while you’re drunk.”

“If you’re not attracted to me, just say it.”

I want to throw my head back and laugh. How is she so wise about certain things and yet absurdly naive about others?

“Of course I’m attracted to you. You’re a beautiful girl.”

Her brow furrows. “I don’t think that means anything. You’re just trying not to hurt my feelings. I’ve seen you with women you want. You’re touchy. You can’t keep your hands off them, and you never touch me. At least, not normally.”

She runs her nails up the back of my neck, and I groan. I need to pull away from her, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

“I like touching you,” I say, “but I’ve always respected you too much—”

“Gross!” She wrinkles her nose.

I frown. “It’s gross that I respect you?”

“It’s gross that you think respecting me means keeping your hands off me, especially when I want your touch.”

Her hands glide down my back and she leans into me, humming as she nuzzles my chest with her nose. “You smell so good.”

My whole body grows stiff. “What are you doing?”

“I’m hugging you.” The sound is muffled against my shirt. “I think liking someone’s smell is a sign you really want them, don’t you? I’ve thought so many guys were good-looking over the years, but none of them have smelled as good as you. Do you like the way I smell, too?”

As if she cast a spell, her wonderful scent washes over me. I do love the way she smells, and I’m certain I would love the way she tastes too.

Fuck.

I hold my whole body rigid, resisting the urge to groan at the softness of her tits as they press against my chest. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I am drunk, but I know what I’m saying. Do you want me or not? Just be honest.”

Oh God. She’s killing me. And even her innocent mind probably knows it. There’s no way she could be pressed up against me like this without feeling evidence of how turned on I am. My rock-hard dick is probably digging into her skin through that flimsy dress.

She looks up at me and smiles—a sultry quirk of her lips that’s completely unlike the Livvy I know. “Do you like it when I do this?” She moves her hips slightly forward. It’s a small motion—not even really a thrust—and yet it sets me on fire. I know I need to push her away, but my arms feel like they’re glued to her, like they have a will of their own.

“You did that to me when we kissed, and it made me—” she lowers her voice, “—wet.”

“Oh fuck, Livvy.” My voice is a rasp. “Please stop. I’m begging you.”

“Okay.” Her smile grows bolder as she drops her arms at her side. “Now you’re the one touching me. Why don’t you stop?”

My groan is so loud it’s almost a growl. I lift my hands and set them on her cheek, forcing her to look at me. “I cannot have this conversation with you right now. You’re drunk, and I need to think.

This is not something I can decide on a horny impulse. Your friendship means more to me than any—”

I’m startled when she jerks away from me. “If I hear how much our friendship means to you one more time, I think I might throw up.”

I scowl. “What the fuck does that mean?”

When she whips around, her eyes are blazing. “It means I’m sick of excuses. I’m not asking you to give up our friendship.”

I open my mouth and close it. “You don’t know how it might—”

“No, I don’t know.” She sets her hands on her hips. “I don’t know if it will change things between us because I’m not God, but I do know that the door is closing. I’m not going to sit around and wait forever for you to decide. I’m giving you three days.”

“Three days? Are you fucking kidding me? This is a big deal. It’s not something I can decide quickly.”

Her jaw hardens as she shrugs. “You’ve known me for five years. If three days isn’t enough for you to decide if you want to have sex with me, I think that’s a pretty good sign you don’t.”

I grit my teeth, struggling for control. “You already know that I want you. You felt my cock pressing into you when you hugged me.”

When her eyes grow hesitant, I smile darkly. For all her drunken boldness, she has no idea what she’s doing or who she’s dealing with. Words like “cock” terrify her. She only thinks she wants this because she doesn’t know what she’s asking for.

If I showed her the full extent of my desire for her, she would run away.

“This is about much more than sex, but if you need to set a deadline, I’ll respect it. Just know that I’m going to err on the side of caution. If I haven’t made a decision by then, the answer will be no.”

When her face falls, I want to reach out and hold her, but I can’t touch her again. Instead, I soften my voice. “Come on. It’s only ten now. Let’s hurry back to my place so you can get a good nap in before I take you home.”

LIVVY

“DRUNKEN ANGEL, it’s time to wake up.” The soft voice curls through my insides, pulling me from the darkness. Big, warm fingers brush my cheek. When the world comes into focus, Cole’s handsome face is in my view, smiling tenderly. Goodness, where am I?

As I stare at him, memories drizzle back in. On the car ride home from the bar, I got dizzy. Cole told me to lie back in my seat and shut my eyes. I think he rubbed my arm. But what happened before that? Oh, that’s right. The conversation on the sidewalk.

Jesus, help me, I threw myself at him.

When I sit up suddenly, he sets his hands on my shoulders and gives them a squeeze. “It’s okay.

It’s only midnight.”

“I’m not worried about that.” I glance around the room, trying to collect my scattered thoughts. My gaze settles at the wet spot on his pillow, and I wrinkle my nose. “Oh no, I drooled on your pillow.”

He laughs softly. “You sleep with your mouth open.”

When I grab the pillow and start yanking down the case, he sets his hand on mine. “A little bit of spit isn’t going to kill me.”

“It’s gross.”

“Most people’s spit is gross. Yours isn’t.”

My gaze snaps to his face, and he’s smiling faintly. “Does that weird you out? If it does, I’m probably not the guy to take your virginity.”

I stare at him for a moment. “Do you really not think my spit is gross?”

He leans forward, stopping when his face is a few inches from mine. The warmth of his skin radiates from him, and that’s when it finally settles over me that I’m lying in a bed, and he’s sitting on the side of it. Close. Close enough that I could pull him in.

“Nothing about you is gross,” he says.

Our gazes hold for a moment, and something flashes in his eyes, something that looks like defiance. “I could bury my head between your legs and never come out.”

He watches me for a moment, and then he smiles, his eyelids growing lazy. He looks like he wants to laugh at me.

“I would lick every part of you if I could. I mean it when I say every part. Not just your pussy.”

His words don’t compute at first. Where else could he lick me? When it dawns on me what he might mean, a flaming heat washes from my scalp to my chest. “Are you talking about… Would you lick my…?”

“Your ass? Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. And I wouldn’t just lick it once. I could lick it for days.”

Goodness, I knew people did things like that, but it always seemed like an abstract concept. I never thought people I knew did it, or that someone would want to do it to me. And not just someone.

Cole. My Cole.

When he laughs, I realize my eyes must be popping out of my skull, but I’m not weirded out. His words, though shocking, make heat curl in my belly.

“This is what I was trying to explain to you when you first asked me if I could do this. Not everyone likes the same things, and I know the things I like would scare you. You probably want a sweet, romantic first time with candles and music in the background. You’d want someone to be really slow and restrained with you, and I’d definitely try…” His eyes grow molten. “But I don’t know if I could.” His voice is deep and dark. “I’ve wanted you for five years. When you first told me you were planning to stay pure, all I could think was…how much I wanted to make you dirty.”

My stomach flips so hard I’m surprised I don’t hunch over. “Really?”

“Yep. Is that blasphemy?”

“No.” My voice is small. “I think I’d like it if you made me dirty.”

“You think. ” His devilish smile tells me he doesn’t quite believe me. He lifts a hand and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “Think about it more over the next three days. I will too. Remember that it won’t be just sex. Not between you and me.”

Of course it won’t. Not when I love him from the pit of my soul.

He runs his fingers down my neck before settling his hand on my shoulder. “We shouldn’t be around each other while we think. I don’t even think we should text.”

My stomach plummets. He’s never ever asked for time away from me. Usually, he’s so demanding of my time. He practically called dibs on me during holiday breaks. He must really be tormented by this decision.

“I don’t like it either,” he says, caressing my shoulder with his thumb. “But it’s hard for me to think clearly about this when I’m around you, and this is a big deal to me. You’re a big deal to me.”

I nod slowly, unable to speak. He leans forward, hesitating for only the briefest moment before pressing his lips softly against mine.