Four Years Later (One Week Girlfriend #4)(43)

Since when did I turn into such a possessive caveman? Ready to beat my chest with my fists and declare Chelsea as mine. She belongs to no one else.

And I never feel that way about any girl.

Her gaze softens and she leans down, kissing me once. Twice, her lips lingering. Like she never wants this to end. I feel the same way. “Okay.” She sounds sad. Defeated. And I hate that.

“Hey.” I catch her chin, keeping her face close to mine. Her breath flutters across my lips, smelling wintergreen fresh from the mints we grabbed before we left the restaurant. I close my eyes for a brief moment, searching for the strength I’m gonna need to be able to resist her.

Because really, I’d rather do nothing but f**k her in the backseat of my car. I have no problem with that whatsoever.

I open my eyes to find her studying me as she licks her lips, her expression hopeful, frustrated … beautiful.

Fuck, I like this girl. A lot. How am I going to keep her in my life? Will she be able to stand me once everything gets all crazy again? I barely have time for myself, let alone someone else.

“I’m going to be busy,” I say, letting my thumb drift across her chin. “Once I get back on the football team, my schedule is gonna go to hell. And with work and school, it’ll be crazy.”

She exhales softly, sadness etched all over her face. “Okay. I get it. You don’t have time to see me.”

“That is definitely not what I’m saying.” I kiss her because I can’t help it. Her lips are pure temptation. Soft and pink and f**king delicious. “I’m asking you to be patient with me,” I whisper after I end the kiss. “I know you’re busy, too.”

“Right.” She nods, her brow wrinkling. “I am.”

“You work a lot. School.” I smile, trying to ease the wariness I see in her gaze. “I’m trying to say I want to see you again but I’m kind of f**king it up, aren’t I?”

A soft huff of laughter escapes her and she nods. “Yeah, you sort of are.”

“We still on for Wednesday?” I’m referring to our next tutoring appointment.

“Yes. Of course.”

“Do you work after?”

“I do. My usual eight-to-two shift.” She shifts on my lap. I can feel the heat between her legs brush against my erection and I want to lift up and press against her, right there. Let her know exactly what she does to me.

But if I do that once, I’ll end up doing it again. And again. And then I’ll be kissing her, my hands reaching beneath her sweater, her hands beneath my shirt, and then we’re done for.

“You need to quit that job. The hours suck.” I slide my hand that still grips her waist a little higher, touching her ribs, just below her bra. I must have the control of a saint tonight because normally, I’d be tearing into that within seconds.

“I can’t. I need the money.”

“Why?” I want information. I want to know why she works so hard yet sometimes acts like a haughty little rich girl. Is she broke? Cut off from mommy and daddy for doing something awful? I can’t imagine her doing anything to make her parents cut her off. That’s a pretty damn drastic move. She’s a f**king genius; she wouldn’t be that stupid.

“I just … it’s only my mom and me, and I need to work both jobs to afford living here,” she admits, dropping her gaze. “I got a scholarship for school but my apartment, utilities—all that stuff is expensive.”

Finally she’s sharing something personal about her family. I savor it as though she handed over her entire life story. “What happened to your dad?”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” she mumbles, her gaze still locked on my chest.

Frustration fills me and I shove it aside. I can’t push. I got pissed at her when she asked about my dad, so I need to respect her wishes. Clearly she doesn’t want to talk about hers.

But that only makes me want to know even more what happened between them.

“We should go, then,” I say reluctantly, letting her slide off my lap. She falls to the side of me, landing on the seat with a soft plop. Reaching out, I grab the handle and open the door, climbing out of the car with Chelsea right behind me. But before I can open the driver’s-side door, she’s grabbing me, pulling me to her so she can kiss me.

I drown in her, grab hold of her so I can press her against the car, holding her in my arms as we kiss, our tongues busy, our hands roaming. Just like that, I feel out of control again. I f**king need to get it together, and quick.

It’s her turn to break the kiss first and she gazes up at me, her eyes wide and fathomless as they drink me in. “I … want you to know that it means a lot to me, you taking me out tonight. Bringing me up here.” She pushes up on tiptoe and presses her face against my neck, kissing me there. “Thank you,” she breathes against my skin, making me shiver.

I tighten my arm around her waist and hold her close, burying my face in her hair so I can breathe in her scent, absorb her heat. “So Chels?”

“Yes?” Her voice is muffled against my neck and another shiver moves through me.

“Was tonight enough of an adventure for you?”

She laughs and pulls away from me so our gazes meet. “Most definitely.”

“Good.” I drop a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Because it’s only just begun.”