I Only Want What I Can't Have

Chapter 12

The remainder of our stay in New York was relaxing and downright peaceful now that everyone knew about Patrick and I. I didn't feel like I had to keep him a secret, and he certainly didn't hide his feelings for me. In fact, Patrick was so open about it that Pete was physically disgusted just by the sight of us now. Apparently, we were "sickeningly sweet." I hated the description, but Patrick absolutely glowed with happiness every time Pete said it, so I bit my tongue and let it go.

Now, a few days later, we were back on the bus and headed south, all the way to Charlotte, North Carolina. Patrick and I were relaxing on the couch in the front of the bus. He was sitting sideways, with me leaning back against his chest and his arms wrapped securely around me. My head was leaning against the side of his neck, in the perfect position to turn my chin up and press a kiss to his jaw, which I did frequently. Every time I did, Patrick returned the sentiment by dropping a kiss on my forehead. Okay, so maybe Pete was a little right about us being sickening.

We were watching a movie, but I was half listening to it. I was more focused on the steady rhythm of Patrick's heartbeat, because I could feel it as I settled back against his neck again, and it was somehow soothing. I had just closed my eyes contentedly when the bunk room door suddenly burst open. Pete and Joe came into the room, laughing loudly about something, and disturbed my serenity. I groaned dramatically and turned my face into Patrick's shoulder, earning myself a small chuckle from him.

Pete immediately pointed at us as Patrick tightened his arms around me. "Gross," he whined, like a child.

"Fuck off, Pete," I mumbled, my voice muffled by Patrick's shoulder.

"Get a room, little Hurley," Pete countered, to which I could hear Joe also snickering. I lifted my head to glare at them both as they sat down across from us.

"You're just jealous," I sighed, pressing a kiss to Patrick's cheek and marveling at the way his skin immediately flushed pink.

"Jealous of what?" Pete asked, "Cuddling with Patrick? I do that all the time."

Patrick glared at him now, but I only smirked. "You're just jealous that you're not getting any."

Pete's smile fell, and he playfully glared back. "Well neither are you! I would know, I sleep right above your boyfriend's bunk."

"Mhm," I sighed, leaning up to shrug my shoulders at him. "Whatever you say, Wentz." And with that, I cupped Patrick's face between my hands and leaned in to kiss him slowly and deeply, in a way that was highly suggestive. Pete was dead silent, and Patrick was slow to respond, probably shocked at my actions. However, when I turned fully to straddle his lap and dipped my tongue into his mouth, he hummed softly and tightened his hold on my hips, present company suddenly forgotten.

"Alright, now this is actually gross," Joe mumbled, clearing his throat awkwardly. When Patrick and I just carried on and Pete stared blankly with his jaw on the floor, Joe made a quick, awkward exit back into the bunk room. After that, I lost track of what Pete was doing, because Patrick was suddenly tangling one hand in my hair, tugging in the most satisfying way as he lifted us into a sitting position. The movement caused me to become suddenly aware of the effect the kiss was having on him. His other hand stayed firmly pressed to my hip, pulling me tight against him, and I felt the all too familiar heat pooling in the pit of my stomach.

We still hadn't slept together, obviously, and while it was incredibly romantic and endearing that he hadn't pushed anything yet, I was starting to go a little insane. We'd only been officially dating for about a week now, but as pathetic as it sounds, I'd never gone this long in a relationship without some kind of sexual release. If Patrick continued to insist on this abstinence thing, I was surely going to explode. So, when Patrick's lips moved to my neck and I glanced back to be sure that Pete had followed after Joe, I allowed myself the small satisfaction of rolling my hips against his. Despite the breathy groan that escaped his lips and the scrape of his teeth against my skin, Patrick's hands were suddenly both at my hips, stilling my movement.