Wicked Restless (Harper Boys #2)(22)

It grows silent again, and I flit my gaze from her to my hands a few times, my stomach twitching nervously.

“Do you like the Excel Program?” she asks.

I suck in my bottom lip and shrug. I never know how to answer that question. It’s like asking someone if they like being really smart. “It’s all right,” I say.

“I bet it’s amazing,” she says, looking to the side, her hair falling over her shoulder slowly, like an avalanche. “You get to go to a college, hang out with professors and learn things like philosophy and culture.”

“It’s not that amazing,” I say. “And I still have to do calculus, and language arts and shit.”

“Whatever. It’s amazing, and you know it,” she says, lifting her foot and nudging my chest with it. I grab hold of her leg and hug it. It seemed like a good idea when I spontaneously did it, but then it got weird instantly.

I made it weird.

We’re both quiet and staring at her leg that I’m now hugging, and I start to laugh at the absurdity. I rock it side to side, like it’s an infant, and she gives into laughter too. She kicks at me with her other leg, so I tug on her and pull her closer to me, holding on tight and moving her into me as if I’m pulling in the length of a rope—until she’s in my lap. Her legs curled up against my door, her body in front of me, and her hands pressed on the ceiling, her laughter fills ever inch of space inside my car.

Her sound fades as her eyes open and her gaze meets mine.

Inches. There are inches in life. Inches that make the difference between a race, that determine your height or pants size, that might mean you make it to the train on time.

I’m living in inches right now, inches and breaths.

Beautiful inches.

“I like you, Emma,” I say. My heartbeat fills my throat; I swallow and feel the heat take over my chest and arms and hands.

She doesn’t answer with words, instead letting her lashes sweep shut while I take in the dusting of freckles along her cheeks. Her lips part with a shallow breath, her bottom one trembling.

“Andrew,” she breathes out my name. It’s a whisper. Like I’m a secret.

Maybe I am.

I move my hand to her cheek, and she lets her weight fall into my palm, her eyes closing again briefly.

“I want to know everything about you, Emma Burke,” I say, sweeping hair away from the one side of her face, leaving my other hand flush against her cheek, my thumbs over those very mesmerizing freckles.

“I’m not very interesting,” she says, her voice tiny and unsure. I can see so much of her nerves in the slight tremors on her lips, the way her hands are now quaking with her grip on my sleeves along my biceps. Her eyes, they tell me so much of her story too.

“You liar,” I smirk. She flinches at first, looking hurt. “You are incredibly interesting.”

I let my head fall forward to meet hers, and her eyes close as she hums.

“You’re a lot of other things, too. Like beautiful, and spirited, and funny, and smart,” I say.

“You don’t know that I’m smart,” she lets out with a laugh, her lips almost brushing mine when she speaks.

“Yeah, I kinda do. I saw your transcripts,” I admit.

She slaps her hands flat against my chest and leans back, trying to decide if I’m kidding. I grin with half my mouth and shrug.

“I’m tight with the front office, and I was worried about you missing class last week. I was going to get your work for you,” I say, now my own nerves kicking in. I sound like a lunatic stalker.

Thankfully, Emma thinks differently, her head falling to the side again, her hands retracing their path along my arms.

“That’s sweet,” she sighs. “I got my work. It was a planned trip. With my family.”

“I figured,” I say, not able to pull my eyes away from hers. “You have really pretty eyes.”

She lets her head fall forward against mine as she lets out an embarrassed laugh.

“I’m serious,” I say. “Don’t let that make you uncomfortable. I mean…it’s almost selfish not to take that compliment. Think of all the people walking around with really hideous eyes.”

She laughs harder, and her grip on my arms gets tighter.

“You’re really funny, Andrew,” she says. I move my hands back to their rightful spot on either side of her face.

“And maybe a little cute? Maybe…just a little?” I squint. I’m teasing her, and I’m begging her. I want this girl to be the girl—my girl. The one I take to things and experience everything with.

“I’d have to say….” She pauses, her eyes taking in various features along my face, like she’s evaluating me, but her grin betrays her, breaking into her cheeks until we’re staring into each other’s eyes again. “Yeah…you’re pretty cute, Andrew.”

I blush. I can feel it, my cheeks warming, my mouth unable to keep a straight face. Every part of me is smiling.

“I’m gonna go ahead and kiss you now,” I say, my lips practically tingling to the point they almost feel numb.

Emma pinches her lips closed tight in a tiny smile, as her eyes close again. Her head held in my hands, I move her the few fractions of an inch left between us until I feel the tickle of her breath and her bottom lip between mine. She lets out another breath, and I suck her lip, tasting it with my tongue, holding her here, in this perfect place, this perfect moment, until I’m sure I’ll never forget it.