Perfect for You(2)

“Wow,” he says when we finally pull apart. “If that’s what apologizing gets me, I’ll have to think of more things to apologize for.” His hands are on my waist, and I wrap my arms around him, laying my cheek against his chest. I can feel his heart thumping, and I smile knowing I’m the one who sent it into such a frenzy.

“Hey, did I say something wrong?” Ash pulls me back so he can stare into my eyes.

“Not at all. Why?” How do I keep making him feel like he did something wrong? He’s perfect.

“You got really quiet.”

“I was listening to your heart. It’s beating really fast.” I smile at him. “It sort of made me forget my head hurts.”

“It was probably the kissing that did that.” His cheeks flush a little in the cutest way. “Lack of oxygen to the brain and all.”

“Kissing you could probably cure just about anything.”

“Probably?” he asks, faking a hurt tone in his voice.

I reach up and kiss him again, but his watch beeps. I pull away and grab his wrist. Nine thirty. “Damn it! I told my parents I’d be home by nine thirty. How did it get so late?” It doesn’t seem like we’ve been kissing that long.

“My practice ran late. I rushed down here because I wasn’t sure I’d still catch you. I was kind of surprised to still see you here, and then you were with Noah.” His voice is soft, questioning.

“I was waiting around for you,” I lie.

“So, you got my text then.” He relaxes a little. “Good. When you didn’t respond, I thought it meant you were already driving home.”

He texted me? Of course he did. He’s an amazing boyfriend and was worried he’d miss me or keep me waiting. And while he was busy thinking about me, I was…The thing with Noah has to stop. It’s impossible to be friends with the guy I’ve liked for the past two years. Not without someone getting hurt.

“Sorry I didn’t text you back. I figured you’d be in the shower and wouldn’t get it anyway. I should’ve told you I would hang around while you finished up.”

“That’s okay. I’m just glad you waited.”

“I should text my mom and let her know I’m on my way before she starts worrying.” I walk to my bag, keeping two steps in front of Ash so he can’t see the new message alert on my screen. I don’t want him to know I lied. I quickly text Mom.

Meg: Practice ran late. On my way.

I shut my phone and grab my bag. “Ready?”

He puts his arm around my shoulders as we walk to our cars. “Remember when we actually got to hang out this summer?”

“Vaguely.” I scrunch up my face, pretending to search for a distant memory.

He leans down and kisses me again. “Any chance your parents will let you stay out a little later? It’s still pretty early.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“How about a swim?” His in-ground kidney-shaped pool. Pure heaven.

“I’ll text my mom.” Before I can take my phone out, his lips are on mine again. He looks deep into my eyes, and I wonder if he’s going to say it. The big it.

“Sorry,” he says. “Go ahead.” He steps back. Why does he keep chickening out? This is the third time this week I thought he was going to say the L-word. What’s stopping him?

Without thinking, I dial my home number instead of texting Mom.

“Meg? I thought you were on your way. Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m fine. I ran into Ash after practice, and I wanted to let you know we’re going for a swim. I’ll be home around eleven thirty?” With Mom, it’s best to use the tell-her-what-I’m-going-to-do-but-end-it-as-a-question method.

She laughs into the phone. “I knew you two couldn’t go the entire day without seeing each other. Tell Ash I said hi.”

“Will do. Thanks!” I hang up and smile at Ash. “Mom says hi.”

He wraps one arm around my waist and pulls me in for another kiss. He can’t keep his hands off me, and I can’t help wondering if seeing me with Noah has something to do with it. Whatever the reason, I certainly don’t mind.

We separate long enough to drive the seven miles to his house. I’m here so much that I keep a spare bathing suit in his closet. After his parents caught me swimming in my sports bra and underwear, we thought it was best to always have a spare suit here. I definitely don’t want to relive that embarrassment.

We race up to his room. Ash grabs his swim trunks and heads to the bathroom. It may be his room, but he always lets me change in here. I pull off my sweaty clothes and get into the two-piece hanging in his closet. Taking a look in the mirror, I decide to let my hair down and use my fingers to brush it back into place. Putting on a little lip gloss I carry in my gym bag, because you never know when you’re going to need it, I take one last look in the mirror and open the door to find Ash standing there waiting for me.

He eyes me and smiles. “I love that suit. The yellow makes your blonde hair shine.”

Yeah, I’m sure it’s the color of the suit that he likes. Not how revealing it is. I smirk and nuzzle into him, breathing in his scent. I take his hand and lead him back downstairs and out the deck door. The Davidsons aren’t hurting for money. They have the kind of backyard most people dream about. The deck is huge, and it tiers down to the in-ground pool, which has a Jacuzzi at one end. The downside is that Ash’s parents are never around—not that I mind right now, but I like having my parents around for meals and stuff. Ash doesn’t have that, which is why he usually spends dinners at my house—at least he did before the football team started practicing twice a day.