She Wants It All by Jessica Calla

Author:Jessica Calla [Calla, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jessica Calla
Published: 2018-02-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Maggie

The hallway is quiet. It’s a welcome event and rarely happens.

Dave’s hand feels like a ball of heat in mine. I grip it, making sure he knows my actions are intended.

“Where is everyone?”

“They took a day trip. Atlantic City.” I lead him to my door and turn to him, lacing my hands around his waist. “Wanna hang out?”

His eyes pop and his mouth opens, but it takes a second before the words start. “Oh? I…um…like now…?”

His stutter is adorable. I love that I can still get him to do that. That Second Floor Dave of Sheridan Hall melts right into a ball of mush for me. Well, not quite “mush.” Not the parts of him I feel pressed against my body.

I unlock the door and close it behind him as he places my bags on my desk. “Thank you for carrying my stuff.” It’s old-fashioned, but I love it.

He bobs his head, and again his mouth opens with no sound. He fidgets and then runs a hand through his hair.

I move to him. “Remember what you said about the charity gala and being allowed to touch me? I kind of missed you last night.”

“Kind of?”

I move closer and trace my hands up his arms to his shoulders. He’s standing, staring like a statue, and letting me do whatever I want. “Feel like touching me again?”

He takes a deep breath, puts his hands on my neck, and lowers his face to mine. “Everywhere. All the time.”

Then he kisses me.

As I wrap myself around him, I don’t care about anything. I know we just met. I know there’s a possibility that we’re both going away in a few weeks. I know I’m still healing a broken heart. What I’m doing, what we’re doing, at the pace we’re doing it, makes no sense.

But….

I.

Don’t.

Care.

Because when Dave’s hand slides the rubber band down my ponytail and my hair falls over my shoulders, when he opens his eyes and looks into mine like he can’t believe I’m real, when his fingers find my shoulders and he gasps when touching me, like he may break me, it all feels right.

He’s so many things without even trying. He’s every hero I’ve read about that I wished was real. He’s the hot guy upstairs whom the girls swoon over. He’s the son of some senator person who thinks he’s a slacker. He’s a kitten saver, a songwriter, and a performer. He’s a million things, and I want all of them. The good, the bad, the fun, and the scary.

Because that’s what real romance is. Real romance isn’t some crazy setup by the universe to be housed in the dorm room next to your first love. Real love isn’t Niall in his kilt, or pirates and CEOs and vampires.

Real romance is what I have in my arms. It’s this boy who adores me and lets me know it with every look. It’s a seat cushion, a blanket, and a cup of coffee in the library. It’s taking a chance and being together, even though we may have to leave each other for the summer.

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