Never Summer Again

Chapter Thirty-Three - Can I Sleep With You?

I look straight ahead. Oh, baby, you have no idea...

We get to my mother's flat shortly. As we walk inside, I head straight for the kitchen. It is late, but I don't want to go to bed yet. I am buzzing with the adrenaline of the night. I've just won nine thousand pounds and nearly got arrested for disturbing public decency.

I can't believe I just did that! That was so out of line! What if we actually got in trouble? How would I have explained getting arrested for screwing my best friend in the streets at night to my dad? And, worse than that, I could have gotten Lydia into some shit, as well.

I blame it on the adrenaline rush from the game. It was a very good night, and I'm getting closer to my goal...

The mood between Lydia and me has shifted now and it is more playful rather than sexual. I don't complain, I like that a lot. I like every second that I have the luxury of being with her.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" I say over my shoulder, as I walk into the kitchen.

"Yes, please!" Lydia yells down the corridor. She's headed to her room.

I put the kettle on and take two cups from the cupboard. God, I'm so glad I'm staying here tonight. I might as well take a break now. And I need to get some rest.

The kettle clicks its switch and I toss the teabags in the cups. Lydia walks in through the door, which I left open for her. She's changed into shorts and a T-shirt and her arms are up and behind her head, as she is tying her hair into a high ponytail.

"Much better." She says, pulling herself up with her arms and hopping onto the counter. "Those shoes were killing me."

"You looked good in them, though."

Lydia lifts an eyebrow, faking a hurt expression.

"You mean I don't look good now?"

"You always look good," I say. I place my hand on the counter and look at her, the adrenaline, still circulating in my bloodstream making me bold, and I lean forward to kiss her. Her lips feel soft and warm against mine. I gently push my tongue inside her mouth. She lets me in readily, leaning her head back as I push a little further. Her mouth tastes like toothpaste. I raise my hand and cup her cheek.

Damn, I've missed her lips! I've missed everything about her for the past four days. I wanted to give her some space to figure her shit out. God, I needed space to figure my shit out. And I didn't want to make her feel weird. We haven't talked about what happened on her prom night, with the exception of the morning after, but that was before the whole disaster with Patrick before she practically ran away from her house and moved in here with me. What does that mean for us? What does that mean for her?

Also, I had to take care of the mess I made all this time ago, so that I could clear my conscience. I don't want to hurt her. Never, in my entire life, have I imagined I'd be in the position of actually hoping that Lydia and I may have a shot. Now that there's a sliver of hope, I can't mess up. I can't. I need to make it right. Yet, it turns out it's not that easy.

Fuck, I feel like I'm walking on thin ice, carrying a firing flamethrower. I feel like, no matter what I do, I'm constantly fucking up. I feel stuck like I don't have a right move...

I detach my lips from hers and look at her face. She is smiling.

"That was nice." She says.

"Yeah."

I move to the side and pour hot water into our cups.

"You haven't kissed me since Saturday," Lydia says, picking up her cup.