Page 99 of How To Tackle A Crush
“On jam sandwiches.”
She hadn’t even laughed. Just nodded like this was the most binding oath available.
“I swear on jam sandwiches.”
That was that.
We told Mum we were going for a walk.
Technically true. We did walk. Just mostly down the corridor and not very far.
Now Ava is half on top of me on her hotel bed and I honestly cannot remember what we were talking about five minutes ago.
Her glasses are somewhere behind my shoulder. Her hair is slightly messy from my hands. Her mouth is soft and warm and she kisses like she does everything else. Careful at first. Then completely.
I slide my hand slowly along her back and she makes that quiet little sound again. The one that goes straight through me.
“You realise,” she murmurs against my mouth, “this is probably a terrible idea.”
“Almost certainly,” I agree, before kissing her again.
Her fingers slide into my hair like she already knows exactly how I like being touched. Like she noticed. Like she always notices.
Bloody hell.
“We told your mum we were going for a walk,” she says.
“We did walk.”
“This feels like false advertising.”
I smile against her neck. “We can go for a very respectable walk later.”
She lets out a soft laugh that turns into a breath when I kiss just below her ear.
There is something almost ridiculously teenage about this. No rush. No agenda. Just kissing because neither of us seems able to stop.
Her hand slips under my shirt and my brain briefly stops functioning.
“You’re very distracting,” she whispers.
“You started it.”
“I did not.”
“Front row,” I remind her. “The hair flick. The glasses.”
She groans and drops her forehead against my shoulder.
“I cannot believe you noticed that.”
“I noticed everything.”
“You were answering questions about tactics.”
“I can multitask.”
She lifts her head, cheeks pink.
