Last Chapter Recap:

  It was hard, walking down the hallway with her, because there was so much I wanted to talk to her about. I wanted to tell her about her dad, about my dad, and most of all, I wanted to kiss her again. I'd only been with her for one day, but it already seemed so much longer than that. It surprised me that I wasn't nervous when I was actually around her, only when I was thinking about her. I guess that's because everything with Eliza is always so easy. Everything with Eliza feels so unbelievably natural.


  "An intervention, huh?" Eliza asked me as we walked down the hallway, "Was that real?" I could hear the amusement in her voice.

   "Yeah, they're reading me letters after dinner," I grinned and went along with it. We reached the kitchen and Eliza closed the door behind her, partially to deter Hank from cooking the pizzas, as a closed door would let him know the situation was under control, and partially so we could have some privacy. My lungs almost failed to fill themselves as I thought about what we could be doing since no one was around to watch us.

  The O'Connor's kitchen is huge, just like every other room in their house. It has a giant stove and a large, metal refrigerator covered with magnets and good test grades; a white-marble table holding a vase filled with fresh carnations, and immaculate stone counters built around the perimeter. The lighting fixtures and rust-colored walls give it a modernist-old fashioned feel. Mrs. O'Connor is really proud of it, and the entire room was completely spotless. It made me remember the time Carter and I tried to make waffles, and we ended up spilling the batter all over the tile floor. I had never seen his mom so mad before, and she made us clean the entire room to make up for it. Twice. Sometimes I refer to Mrs. O’Connor as the crazy kitchen lady. It makes Carter laugh every time.

 Eliza laughed and went to take some boxes out of the freezer. She undid the plastic packaging and moved around to take care of the oven part. "You know,” she began, in that teasing tone of voice I love, “I was wondering if you were going to call me. 76 hours is a long time," 

  "It is a long time." I half smiled and leaned against the wall behind me. She didn’t seem upset.

  "That's probably the point of that though, right? To try and wear the girl down until she thinks you won't call her and then when you do, she's overjoyed?" Eliza slid the pizzas onto a pan on the table, and then walked around the kitchen for a knife to cut them with.

  "Something like that," I replied nonchalantly, even though she'd hit it on the money.

 That was exactly it. Something most girls don't realize is that guys can play hard-to-get too, and 80% of the time, it works every time.

  "Well, I would have been able to tell you if it's a good technique, but that kind of got shot to hell when you came over, didn't it? Now how are you going to know whether or not I've thought about you as much as you've apparently thought about me?" she stood with her stomach flatly against one of the counters, watching a pitcher fill up with water, and I moved to stand behind her.

          When she turned around, her body collided with mine and I watched her eyes widen with surprise, then understanding, and then appreciation as she realized what I'd been doing. "Well played, Sir," 

 "Thank you," I trailed my fingers down her arms, feeling her shiver in anticipation of what I might to next. Just like it had been the night before, her feelings were clearly displayed across her face. A jolt went through my body when I realized that this girl wanted me to kiss her again. I felt like Christmas had come early.

 I pressed my lips against her nose, resisting the urge to do so much more. We both knew how quickly things could get out of hand if we let them. I pulled away to see her almost glaring at me. I grinned. I loved teasing her, but then I remembered that Eliza also knew how to play this game.

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