Every Summer After(47)

“No,” he replied.

“No, it wasn’t your first kiss, or no, you aren’t going to tell me?”

“It wasn’t my first kiss. I’m sixteen, Percy.”

“When?” My voice was hoarse.

“You sure you want to know?” he asked. “Because you sound a little weird.”

“Yes,” I hissed. I wanted to scream. “Just tell me.”

“It was last year—a girl from school. She asked me to go skating, and she pushed me in the penalty box and then kissed me. It was kind of crazy.”

“She sounds psycho.”

“Yeah, we didn’t go out again.” He paused. “But I went out a couple times with Jordie’s sister’s friend, Olivia.” Jordie’s sister is a year older than us.

“And you kissed her?” My voice was strangled. My head was spinning. Three girls. Sam had kissed three girls. Sam had kissed an eleventh-grade girl. It shouldn’t have surprised me. He was cute and sweet and smart, but he was also mine, mine, all mine. The thought of another girl spending time with him, let alone kissing him, made me nauseated.

“Um, yeah. We kissed.” He hesitated. “And we fooled around a bit.”

“You fooled around with an eleventh-grade girl?” I squeaked.

“Yeah, Percy. Is that so surprising?” He sounded offended. “You don’t make out with your boyfriend?” I took a deep breath.

“He. Is. Not. My. Boyfriend.” I was whisper-yelling. I shoved Sam’s shoulder once, then again, and he grabbed my wrist, holding it against his bare chest.

“And you don’t make out with your non-boyfriend?” he asked.

“I’d rather make out with someone else,” I blurted, immediately wanting to suck the words back into my throat.

“Who?” Sam asked. My skin went tight with adrenaline, but I kept my mouth shut. He squeezed my wrist slightly, and I wondered if he could feel how quickly my pulse raced. “Who, Percy?” he asked again. I groaned.

“Don’t make me tell you,” I said so quietly I wasn’t sure if I’d said it out loud, but then I felt Sam’s hot breath on my face and the press of his nose and forehead against mine.

“Please tell me,” he pleaded softly. I was overwhelmed by him—this smell of his shampoo, his damp hair, the heat coming from his body.

I swallowed thickly, then whispered, “I think you know.”

Sam stayed silent, his mouth inches from my own, but his thumb began to move in back-and-forth strokes across my wrist.

“I want to be sure,” he murmured.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let the words fall from me.

“I’d rather kiss you.”

As soon as the admission left my mouth, Sam’s lips were on my lips, pressing and urgent. It felt like jumping off a cliff into warm honey. Just as quickly, he pulled back and rested his forehead against mine, taking quick, shallow breaths.

“Okay?” he whispered.

I shook my head. “More.”

He closed the gap between us, peppering kisses on my lips, sweet and soft, but not nearly enough, and when he let go of my wrist, I put my hand in his hair, holding him closer. I ran my tongue over the crease of his bottom lip, then pulled it into my mouth. He moaned and suddenly his hands were everywhere all at once, on my back, over my hips, across my stomach. And then his tongue met mine, minty and teasing. I wrapped a leg around his and pulled our hips together. A pained, desperate noise vibrated from the back of Sam’s throat, and he gripped my side, putting a sliver of space between us.

“You all right?” I asked. He didn’t respond. “Sam?”

“I’m nodding,” he said.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “I got a little carried away.”

“Don’t be sorry. I liked it.” He took a deep breath, then paused before adding, “But I think we should probably try to sleep. Otherwise I’ll get carried away.”

I nodded.

“Percy?” he asked.

“I’m nodding.”

And then he kissed me again. At first it was slow, all hot tongue and gentle sucking. I whimpered, wanting more, more, more, and moved my hands down his back and into the waistband of his boxers. In reply, he grabbed my butt and pulled me against him. I could feel his excitement, and I pressed into him. He sucked in his breath and froze.

“We need to stop, Percy.” Before I could ask if I’d done something wrong, he rasped, “I’m like really close.”

I exhaled in relief. “Okay.”

He brushed my face with his fingertips. “So . . . sleep?”

“Or something like that,” I laughed quietly. Eventually, I turned to face the wall, a smile on my face. Somehow I did fall asleep, and just before I drifted off, I heard Sam whisper, “I’d rather kiss you, too.”



* * *





SOMETHING WOKE ME suddenly. I opened my eyes, not sure where I was, feeling a weight across my middle. I blinked at the wall a few times before remembering.

I was in Sam’s bed.

With Sam.

Who had kissed me.

Who had his arm wrapped around me.

Two hard knocks sounded on the door. I gasped. Sam’s hand moved over my mouth.