The Checklist by Addie Woolridge (color ebook reader TXT) 📗

She slipped her tongue across the bottom of his lip, testing the boundaries between them. Mike responded, moving boldly and pulling her in closer, so she could feel the hard muscles in his torso. He tasted like the sugary treats she had just eaten. Vaguely aware her own cookie was melting in her hand, Dylan couldn’t help it: she giggled.

“What are you laughing at?” Mike’s voice was on her lips as he leaned his forehead against hers, his breathing uneven.

“My cookie is melting.”

Mike laughed, and Dylan could almost feel his smile touch her own as he tilted his head to look at the hand that wasn’t wrapped around him. Chocolate had managed to drip all over her arm. Dylan sensed his reluctance as he released the hand at the small of her back, allowing her the space to roll back onto her calves. Carefully, she disentangled her arm from around his neck and slowly brought the softening mess of a cookie to her mouth.

“Want some?” Dylan mumbled through a mouthful of cookie, holding up her chocolate-covered hand.

“Maybe later.” Mike bit down on his bottom lip as she began to lick the chocolate off her thumb.

“Suit yourself. It’ll just take me longer to clean up before we can get back to business.” She shrugged.

Mike leaned over, close to her ear, and whispered, “Take your time,” then flicked his tongue across the corner of her mouth, adding, “You have melted chocolate all over your face,” before leaning back again.

Dylan instinctively followed him forward, still working on the chocolate attached to her ring finger. As she did, her knees dug farther into his thigh. Mike winced and shifted away from the pressure.

“That can’t be comfortable,” he said, tapping a hand on her knee.

Dylan worked at the chocolate on her finger a little longer than she needed to, trying to come up with a good reason to keep her feet hidden. Pursing her lips, she watched as Mike tilted his head expectantly.

Exhaling, she pulled her feet out from under her, stretching her legs across Mike’s lap. “I got a really bad pedicure. Like, embarrassingly bad.”

Dylan watched in horror as Mike looked down at her metallic-yellow toes. The terrifying smiley faces on her big toes grinned up at him.

“Wow. That is just . . .” His body shook as he pressed his lips together. “It’s just so . . . weird.”

“I know. Don’t laugh,” Dylan said, trying to retract her legs from his lap. “I’d have removed them if I’d known I was coming here.”

“I feel like your feet are watching me,” Mike said, placing a hand across her legs and looking away from her toes, laughing into his own shoulder. “How do you go to the bathroom?”

“Honestly, I try not to look. I can’t find the nail polish remover, and once my shoes are on I keep forgetting to buy more. You know my parents’ house.” Dylan chuckled. “My toes are too terrible; I have to put them away,” she said, trying to bring her legs back from across his lap.

“No, no, no. It’s fine,” Mike said, still laughing as he slowly moved his hand up her calf, past her knee, finally letting it come to rest featherlight on her thigh. “We’ll just have you sit in a different position or something.”

“Or we could do things that don’t involve sitting.”

Dylan said the words fast so she couldn’t talk herself out of her desire. Mike stopped laughing and grew quiet, squinting at her, the crow’s-feet at the corners of his eyes taking shape.

“Like, maybe we find the room in your house that has options for other . . . activities.” She trailed off, not quite meeting his gaze. Mike continued to take her measure as she moved her hands in a circular motion, looking for a polite way to suggest sex.

“This escalated quickly,” Mike said, biting down on his lower lip. Dylan’s face snapped to attention, catching the questioning look on his face.

“We can de-escalate. I don’t want you to feel rushed or anything,” Dylan sputtered. Suddenly unsure of herself, she looked down at her hands and kicked herself for being spontaneous. She usually considered all the angles. Spontaneity just wasn’t her thing. She had made a whole life out of eliminating uncertainty, and it was a good life. Surprises were for people with less Delacroix in their name.

Risking a glance, she caught Mike’s pause, his lower lip working overtime, and felt her heart stutter. Who was she kidding? The boy next door wasn’t going to drop years of animosity for an uneasy truce with someone whose parents’ had toilet papered his house two years ago.

“Let’s forget about it. Best not to trust a Delacroix,” she half joked, fighting the deflated feeling that came from misplaced hope.

Mike’s eyes narrowed. “I trust you. Why wouldn’t I?”

Dylan’s chest expanded. “Because my parents lied about clogging the storm drain in front of your house?”

“Yes, but you didn’t lie about it. Besides, we spray weed killer on your lawn whenever you all go on vacation. Dylan, you’ve always been honest with me. It’s one of the things I like about you.” Mike reached out and ran a hand down her arm. “I’m okay with escalation. Assuming you are.”

Dylan leaned into him, surprised by the rush she felt. The pure bliss that came with taking a risk. Enjoying the slow gathering of electricity between them, she kissed him once again, slower and deeper this time. She waited, feeling Mike open to her, before backing away. “As long as you don’t make fun of my pedicure.”

“Done.” Mike kissed her again, then tapped her thigh and looked over at her feet, his lips pressed into a thin line of impish delight.

“Don’t say it.”

“Wasn’t gonna.”

“Sure,” Dylan said, nudging him with her shoulder before swinging her offending pedicure off the couch and onto the floor, unpinning Mike so he could stand. Extending his hand toward her, he lightly pulled her to her feet. Then, still holding her hand loosely in his own, he began to walk past the kitchen, toward