Meet Me at Midnight by Jessica Pennington

Author:Jessica Pennington
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

* * *

By the time we get home, my ankle is already feeling less tight, but Asher still insists on helping me walk until he dumps me on my bed. With a crash and a huff, I sink into the softness of my yellow comforter. Asher moves for the door, and I expect him to leave, but instead he quietly shuts it.

“That didn’t exactly go as expected.” My voice is little more than a whisper. The last thing we need is our parents wondering why we’re awake—and in the same room—at four in the morning.

Asher squats down next to the bed. He catches my good foot in his hands and slips my shoe off, setting it on the floor by my nightstand. Then he gently holds the other, and slips that one off, too. I turn on the bed, swinging my feet onto the mattress, trying not to think about how easily Asher has helped me tonight, or how weird it is to have him in my room for the first time since it became mine.

All of those strange thoughts from movie night are back again, milling around in my brain, forcing me to think about weird things like why anyone would ever break up with someone so sweet. The only light is the little lamp next to my bed, and it washes us in a soft yellow light. “Sorry,” I say, shifting my hips until I’m no longer on the edge of the bed. I reach behind me to stack my pillows so I can lean back against the headboard.

“For what?” Asher is standing now, and reaches over me for one of the extra pillows on my bed. He puts it under my foot. Holy hell, the sweetness just keeps coming. I’m going to have to undo all of this work when I change into my pajamas, but I can’t make myself stop him when he’s being like this. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t intentionally twist your ankle.”

“Still.”

Asher squats down next to me again, his head cocking to the side. “You know you can make it up to me, if you feel bad. I mean, you did jeopardize the mission.”

I turn my head to face him, ready to tell him I know exactly what he wants. And I’m not getting up to make breakfast for anyone tomorrow. It will probably be lunch before I wake up. But when my eyes meet his, I don’t say anything. Because he’s not looking at me like he wants pancakes.

I should move—every reasonable cell in my body says that I should—but I don’t want to. And before another breath can pass between us, his lips are on mine. Maybe I’m in shock, or just nearing exhaustion, but all I can think is that Asher Marin is kissing me. Again. Totally not drunk. And I’m just … frozen. My lips are still.

What are we doing? Do I want this? For the last few weeks I haven’t been sure what I want. I missed the pranks at first.

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