Until May (Until Her/Him #11)(25)

“Oh.” I bite my bottom lip, and his eyes drop to my mouth. “What did you want to talk about?” I ask, and his expression turns serious before he lets me go and takes a step back. Feeling suddenly cold without his body against mine, I wrap my arms around my middle and wait for him to speak not sure that I want to hear what he’s going to say.

“I spoke to a friend of mine that’s a police officer in town. He told me if I got the number for the guy who’s been messaging you, he’ll see if he can find anything out about him.”

“You talked to your friend about it?”

“I did.” He lifts his chin ever so slightly. “Did you go to the cops?”

“No,” I admit. I mean, I thought about calling my uncle, Nico, or my cousin, Cobi, who are both cops, to tell them about the situation and get their advice, but I knew whatever I said would get back to my parents before I even hung up the phone. And as much as I love my family, I do not want them all worried when there isn’t anything to worry about. Plus, I don’t need other people telling me how dumb I was for talking to a guy for weeks without ever seeing his face, when everyone today has video-calling on their phone.

“Do you mind if I share the number with him?”

“No.” I head down the hall and go to the kitchen where my phone is and grab it off the counter where it was charging. “Here.” I turn to face him, but he’s not behind me like I assumed he would be. Instead, he’s at the edge of the hall with Cooper, rubbing his belly as he lies on his back with his legs in the air.

“Have you gotten any new messages?”

“I don’t know. I was going to have my number changed again but when I called in to do it I was told that I could turn off all notifications for the number so that I wouldn’t have to see them every time I picked up my phone,” I admit, and his jaw clenches before he comes out of his crouched position and walks toward me.

“Pull up his messages,” he orders, and I duck my head and try to focus on my phone and not the fact that he’s here with me and my lips are still tingling from his kiss.

I hand it to him without looking at what has been written since I shut off notifications, then I watch as his finger slides over the screen, and his eyes narrow as he reads the texts that were sent.

“What does he mean by you owe him one?” he asks, lifting his chin and locking his eyes with mine.

“What?”

“The last text from him says you owe him one.”

I take the phone from him and see that the last message is just those four short words and a smiley face. “I have no idea.” I hand the phone back to him, then go to the freezer and pull out the tub of wildberry-lavender ice cream I have on the shelf and grab a spoon from the drawer. What I really need is a shot of alcohol to help ease my nerves, but with having to wake up early for school tomorrow, I know ice cream is the wiser choice. While he types away on his phone as he’s glancing at mine, I take a seat at the island and dig my spoon into the tub, taking out a scoop, then popping it into my mouth.

When I’m digging in for another scoop, I look over his way when I feel him watching me, and heat spreads up my neck to the tips of my ears. “Sorry, I should have asked if you wanted some,” I say, and he drops his cell phone to the counter, then steps in my direction and cups the side of my head.

Anticipation curls in my belly as his face lowers toward mine, then my eyes slide closed at the first brush of his lips. Before his tongue slips between my lips, I reach out to grab his bicep to hold myself upright, already off-kilter, and a mewl climbs up the back of my throat when he ends the kiss before it’s really even begun. As my eyes open, I watch him grab my wrist and bring the spoon to his mouth, eating the bite I forgot all about.

“That tastes good, but you taste better.” He wipes the edge of my mouth with his thumb before he sucks it into his mouth, and my stomach drops as my thighs tighten together to ease the steady throb that’s only gotten worse since the first time he kissed me. I rub my lips together, not sure how to respond, but I don’t need to. Without another word, he goes back to whatever he’s doing with his phone and mine, like he was not at all affected by that kiss.

Then again, he’s probably kissed a million women, and to him it’s not a big deal to kiss someone and say things like that. My stomach churns at the thought, and I put the lid on the ice cream and take it to the freezer, then drop my spoon in the dishwasher.

“All right,” he says after a minute, focusing on me while he tucks his phone into his back pocket. “I sent screenshots of the texts you’ve gotten along with the number to Noah, so now we wait and see what he says.”

“Do you think he’ll be able to find anything out?” I ask him from across the island that’s between us.

“No idea, but it’s worth a shot, having him check into it.”

“True.” I walk around the opposite side of the counter when he starts to come toward me.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” I keep moving as he follows me.

“You’re a horrible liar.”

“I’m not lying.” I frown at him, and the side of his mouth kicks up.

“So why are you suddenly set on keeping this between us?” He pats the top of the island.

“I’m not.” I push in my stool, and he leans into the counter across from me.