Juliana Stone - Boys Like You

“Okay,” I repeated, pulling him after me as we disappeared into the dark.

Nathan

The ride back to my place didn’t take long. Five minutes maybe. But it was a long five minutes.

A long five minutes filled with a lot of thoughts I wasn’t so sure I should be thinking about.

First off, Monroe looked so freaking hot tonight that I’d barely been able to keep my hands off her. That little top she wore had Brent’s eyes bugging out of his head when he’d first laid eyes on her.

I couldn’t blame the guy. He was human, after all, but still. I’d never felt this possessive of a girl before, and when I caught Chad checking her out—elbowing the guys on the team to do the same—I could have easily gone all caveman on them, but I didn’t think Monroe would like that kind of shit.

But the thing that made all of this so much harder was the fact that this was our last night together, and though I tried to keep my thoughts PG, it hadn’t exactly worked.

I thought about her in that little bikini she’d worn when I had taken her to Baker’s Landing. I thought of how she’d felt all slippery and wet. How her pupils dilated when she kissed me and she made these sounds in her throat when I kissed her back.

She was so beautiful. So damn perfect.

And I didn’t know what to do with that. It wasn’t that I didn’t think I deserved her, I was over that shit. But I loved this girl—I loved her more than I thought it was possible to love a girl. And here we were, counting down our last minutes together, and I suppose I should have been happy to just cuddle and talk, but man, all I could think about was getting her alone. In my room.

Naked.

“We’re here.”

Yanked from my thoughts, I glanced at my house. A house that was in darkness.

A house that was empty.

She cut the engine and turned to me. “I had to get out of there,” she said suddenly.

“I know.” I tried to make things light, but when she turned to me, there were tears in her eyes. What the hell?

“Hey,” I whispered, unbuckling my seat belt as she did the same and scooted over onto my lap. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head as if she was trying to decide what to say, and then she spoke so softly I had to listen hard in order to hear her.

“I talked to Rachel.”

“Rachel,” I repeated.

I tried to keep it together. To keep it cool. But the truth was, there was a lot that Rachel could tell Monroe if she wanted to screw my night up. A lot. Shit. This had to be a guy’s worst nightmare. No one wanted their ex-girlfriend gossiping about sex stuff to the new girlfriend.

“She seems really messed up.”

I nodded. Messed up was an understatement. I’d known Rachel for a long time, and she was way more messed up than anyone knew. There were a lot of family issues—mainly with her stepfather—and she smoked too much weed and drank more than she should. I wasn’t sure if she was ever going to be the carefree fun girl I started dating in ninth grade.

“What did she want?” I asked hesitantly.

“I’m not sure,” Monroe said. “But I think she was checking to make sure I was treating you right.”

Huh.

Monroe was quiet for a few moments, her forehead furrowed as if she was thinking really hard.

“She’s going to need someone this year. I mean, I won’t be upset if you are the one she leans on.”

“So let me get this straight. You’re giving me permission to hang out with my ex-girlfriend.”

Her eyebrow rose. “Just hang out. You know, if you want to, because I think she needs someone right now.”

God, I loved this girl.

“But no touching,” she continued.

I grabbed her chin. I stared into her eyes so she had to see me—had to know how I felt. “I don’t want to touch anyone but you, Monroe. There is no one else for me.” I shrugged. “There just isn’t.”

“Let’s go inside.”

I knew what she was asking. What she wanted. And it’s not like I hadn’t thought about it every night for the past few weeks. It’s not like I hadn’t dreamed of being with her. Of watching her breathe and move. Of knowing what it felt like to be inside her.

But…this wasn’t just any girl. “Are you sure, Monroe?”

Her lips slid across mine until her mouth was against my ear. “Yes.”

The house was in darkness but she didn’t care.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

I grabbed Monroe’s hand and led her down the hall. My room was at the back of the house, and I shoved the door open, following Monroe inside.

“Is there a light?” she asked, her voice light like a whisper on the wind.

I crossed to my bed and turned on the lamp. Its glow was muted, which was nice, and I watched the shadows that danced across her face.

She twirled a piece of hair between her fingers and I knew her well enough now to know that she was nervous. Hell, so was I. I’d never had sex with someone who I was in love with, and it mattered so much more on so many levels.

Sure, I thought I’d been in love with Rachel, but now I knew different. Now I’d felt and touched real love. Real love was full of emotion—it wasn’t just about the physical stuff, getting laid or making out.

Emotion and love together? It changed things.

“I’ve never…” Her eyes slid away from mine. “I’ve never done it before.”

I’d suspected Monroe was a virgin, and the enormity of what she was giving me pressed into my chest and I ran my hands through my hair, because in that moment, I didn’t know what to do.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you.” She sounded anxious. Scared.

I took the two steps needed to reach her and slid my hands into her hair, holding her so that there was nowhere for her to look but at me.

“God, Monroe. Don’t apologize. Don’t apologize for being you. For being the most incredible girl I’ve ever met.” She was everything to me. “I love you.”

“Then kiss me,” she said softly, standing on her toes to reach me.

I kissed her for the longest time. Holding her softness against me as my head spun crazily and my heart tried like hell to keep up.

Things got heavy. They got wicked heavy.

We were on my bed. My T-shirt was on the floor.

Monroe felt so damn good, and when she rolled over on top of me, I was nearly out of my mind. Her long hair was all over the place, her pale skin smooth in the dim light. Her mouth was swollen from my kisses, her cheeks flushed and rosy.

She was the hottest thing I’d ever seen, and when she slowly reached behind her neck, I froze.

We were both breathing pretty hard by this point, and I couldn’t look away as she undid her halter top and slowly peeled it away.

Nothing but my ragged breaths filled the air.

She straddled me and moved her hips slightly and I groaned. “Jesus, Monroe.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off her, and when she bent forward to lie against me, to press her softness into me, I think I might have died a little.

My hands crept up her bare back and I held her there, fighting for some kind of control.

I banged my head back into the pillow and swore under my breath.

“Nate?” she whispered into my neck. “Don’t stop.”

I turned my head and grimaced, fighting for some kind of control because things were moving fast and she felt way too damn good in my arms.

“Nate? Don’t you want…me?”

I inhaled a deep breath and reached for her, cupping her jaw so that I could stare into her eyes. I didn’t say anything. My mind was searching for the right words, so for a long time, I held her. I held her until her breathing slowed, and eventually, so did mine.

“Tell me it’s not just me who feels this connection,” I finally said, needing to hear her say the words.