Page 59 of Love Out Loud

Lennon takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger. He turns my face this way and that, inspecting and squinting and humming thoughtfully until I fall into him in a fit of giggles.

“You look better than you did in high school,” he proclaims.

I run a hand over the swell of his biceps. “You do, too,” I say quietly.

He tilts my chin up so I’m looking at him again and smirks. “Even better that now I’ve had the added benefit of seeing you naked, which teenage me would be very jealous of. And I would very much like to see it again.”

“Okay.” I eye the glasses still sitting on the nightstand. “But you’re going to put those on for me.”

He frowns, the crease between his eyebrows deepening. “Why?”

I flash him a wicked smile as I pull the shirt off me and toss it aside. “Because I like them.”

It only takes a second for him to snatch the glasses off the nightstand and put them back on. “Say no more.” He kisses me deeply, effectively silencing any more teasing I might have come up with.

***

“Hey,” Lennon’s exasperated voice floats in from the living room on Monday morning. “Five till we leave.”

“Thank you, five,” I call back almost automatically as I dip the wand in my mascara and start quickly swiping at my lashes. It’s his fault I’m late, since he was the one who woke me up by running his hands over my skin and kissing me. And when his lips met mine, what was I supposed to do but let him devour me again?

I watch in the mirror as a slow smile spreads across my face at the memory. It’s not like I was an unwilling participant, so maybe I’m just as much to blame.

Lennon’s face appears over my shoulder, a flush creeping up his neck and his lust-addled gaze trained on me.

My smile turns into a smirk as I tick an eyebrow up and meet his eyes in the mirror. “Oh, you liked that, did you?”

“A little too much, I think.” He steps up behind me and wraps his arms around my middle, kissing my neck and letting me feel exactly how much he liked my theater talk.

I reach up to run my hand through his hair, holding him close to me and tilting my neck to give him better access. “What happened to leaving in five?”

His teeth scrape against my pulse, then he licks the spot to soothe the sting. “We’re coming back to this,” he practically growls into my skin.

Our gazes meet in the mirror, his hazel eyes dark and full of desire and my blue ones bright and happy. “Is that a promise?” I ask.

He nods, then lingers there as if he wants to say something else. But ultimately, the only thing he says is “We’d better go,” before he pinches my side affectionately and walks out of the bathroom.

Lennon holds my hand the entire way to the studio. Even though we’ve held hands a million times over the years, this feels different. It’s more meaningful, more noticeable. Before, I was hardly aware of when his thumb would brush across my knuckles. Now every slight shift registers, either with a shock of need up my entire arm or a vague worry about whether or not he’s comfortable.

This budding relationship between us is so new. And now that we’re outside the safety of his apartment, I’m not quite sure how to act. Do we tell Noah and the others or let them realize it themselves? Or do we not bother because I still don’t know what’s going to happen once I finish recording this audiobook? Do I tell Devin? Would it be weird for her? I never got serious with anyone when she was younger because I was always worried about how it would affect her. Would I still risk breaking her heart if things didn’t work out with Lennon, or is she old enough to understand? She loves Lennon so much…would he still be part of her life if he wasn’t part of mine?

Is there a world in which I’d survive if Lennon was no longer my best friend? Is that what’s going to happen if I decide to leave Los Angeles and go back home at the end of this thing?

I’ve been chewing my lip for so long that I can taste the iron tang of blood by the time Lennon pulls up to the studio entrance. I lick it away quickly and paste a smile on my face before I turn to him.

He’s still holding my hand, and he doesn’t let go even when he parks the Jeep. He gives it a squeeze. “You look like your brain is working on overdrive, Songbird.”

“Hmm?”

“You were pretty deep in thought over there.” His tone is light, but his soft eyes suggest he’s concerned.

He’s already been so anxious about his parents, and we’ve barely been together for two days. I can’t burden him with any of this yet, even though he’d be the first person I’d confide my worries in if I were falling for a different man. I decide to open the door just a crack. The other bridges are ones we can cross when we come to them.

“I don’t really know how to act in public. Do I kiss you now, knowing whoever is in there can see us and is probably watching? Do we pretend everything is normal for a while longer while we adjust to…whatever we’re doing?” I shrug helplessly.

He watches his thumb brush back and forth over my hand. “What are we doing?” he asks quietly.

“Calling you my boyfriend feels trite and juvenile, if that’s what you’re asking,” I say honestly. “But I also don’t know if that’s really what you want. Or maybe you want to keep up your bachelor ways? I wouldn’t blame you.” This is going off the rails, and fast. I let out a frustrated grumble. “This is not how I wanted to have this conversation.”