Levi tenses. “What are you doing, Maggie?”
I press a light kiss to his neck. “I like what we did the other night.”
He sinks into me. “Me too.”
“Teach me more.”
His breathing speeds up as my lips nibble the skin beneath his ear. “I thought we already established that you don’t need lessons.”
“You decided that, but I really do need you to teach me. I totally bombed the condom race. If I can’t do right by a banana, how can I do it with a real guy?”
“Why me?” he asks. “You’re pretty. Lots of guys would be interested.”
I blush at his words—they definitely make me feel good. “I’m looking to explore,” I explain. “I want to fulfill my urges—”
“Mags, seriously, please stop talking about your urges.”
I swallow hard, working to find the right words to explain how I feel. “I need to stay focused on swimming, and you’re equally as focused. If I were to hook up with a guy I don’t know well, it could get dramatic. He could want me more than I want him. Or vice versa.”
“I know what that’s like,” Levi says quietly.
“Or what if I can’t find somebody who’s good at fooling around like you?”
Levi smirks a little, and I keep on rambling.
“And if I hook up with someone random, I could get a bad reputation. Or he could end up being a crazy person.”
“Like the Cal guy who wanted you to spank him?” He snorts at his own joke.
I give him a look. “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t need drama right now.”
I kiss along his jaw as I work my way over to his lips. He cups the back of my neck, bringing my mouth to his. After a few soft kisses that feel like lemonade on a hot day, he pulls back to stare at me.
“I’m nervous,” he says.
“About what?”
“I like this. But you’re the best thing in my life. The only thing in my life.”
“That’s not true. You’ve got your mom and Oma and Opa and Pepper. Hunter and Georgia.”
“You know what I mean.”
I do. I know what he means. He’s been my rock since we were kids. My constant.
But…I can’t help wanting to make out with him. The pull is too strong.
I slide onto his lap. Any other guy and I’d feel like a giant oaf, but with him, the way his hands play across my back, drifting up and down the ladder of my spine, makes me feel feminine.
“We promised we’d tell each other how we feel,” I say.
“And I told you, I’m nervous. I’m worried. I’m not sure if I want to do this, but you’re still in my lap.”
I swallow hard, and start to move to the other side of the hot tub, away from him, to respect his wishes and maybe rush home to hide under my bedcovers in mortification. But then he pulls me back against him. The water ripples around us.
I touch his muscled chest, look into his blue eyes and choke out, “I thought you were worried.”
“I am. But when you moved away from me just now, I realized you’d never push me.”
I lean closer to him. “So what does that mean?”
He shrugs. “I can give you a few more lessons.”
“Lessons in how to be full of yourself?” I tease.
“You bet.”
We ease into kissing again with a few simple pecks. Those tiny seeds bloom into a field of bright sunflowers. He slides one of my bathing suit straps down. Presses his mouth to my collarbone. When I let out a little sigh, he slides his hands to my waist and further down to cup my bottom.
“Can I ask a question?” I pant, my breath ragged. “Why is it you’re supposed to be teaching me how to make a guy feel good, but you’re doing all the work?”
He gives me a smile that’s all mine. “Lesson number one: you’ll know a guy’s worth it when he can’t keep his hands off you.”
A New Way to Breathe
The week leading up to regionals, I can’t keep my hands off him.
We don’t touch each other at practice, obviously, but the minute we’re alone, I am all over him. Monday night my parents are catering a retirement party at a law firm, so I go over to Levi’s house to mooch some of Oma’s beef stew.
After we finish second helpings, he passes me a tiny envelope. I carefully open it to find a Batman valentine that says:
To: Magpie From: Levi
I smile. “Why’d you get me this?”
“Oma bought me some valentines to give out at school. I guess she doesn’t know that kids don’t exchange them past fifth grade.”
“Aww,” I say. “Now I feel bad. I didn’t get you one.”
Wheel of Fortune is blaring from the TV room, which means Oma and Opa are properly distracted by Pat Sajak and Vanna White. So I scooch around to Levi’s side of the table.
“Here’s your valentine, Batman,” I say, and press my lips to his. When I pull back to look at him, he gives me a quizzical look but doesn’t object when I dive back in for more.
“Am I doing this right?” I ask between kisses.
His eyes flare. “Guys like it when girls take initiative…so yeah, this is pretty hot.” He twines our fingers together and tugs me closer so that I’m straddling his lap, his chest rising and falling as he works to catch his breath. But I don’t let him catch it—I kiss the daylights out of him.
The next day in study hall, Levi and I grab our usual spot in the back corner near a sunny window overlooking the soccer field. I like this table because somebody etched into it: math is a tempestuous lover.
Georgia and Hunter have study hall during a different period, so it’s just me and Levi. I’m working on the first draft of an essay for my English class, and he’s making faces at his biology book.
“I don’t see why I have to do this,” he complains. “I already got into college. Besides, I am an expert.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask.
“Definitely. I’ve been teaching you all about biology.” His eyes sweep the library. No one is looking our way, not even the librarian who constantly shushes me. Levi reaches over to grip my knee, sweeping his hand up my leg, gently playing my inner thigh like piano keys. Mouth at my ear, he whispers, “The knee bone’s connected to the thigh bone.”
His fingertips leave me trembling in their wake. I breathe deeply, to try to calm myself, but Levi undoes me. Taking his hand, I stand and lead him back into the stacks, peeking over my shoulder to make sure no one’s following us. When we reach the books on business, I figure it’s safe (because who would want to read about taxes?), and I get up on tiptoes and kiss his neck.
His arms come around me, drawing my body close.
“The thigh bone’s connected to the hip bone,” I whisper-sing, and he brings two fingers to my jaw, turning my head so our lips can meet. He moans softly as we kiss, gripping my hips. His warm, soft mouth glides against mine. My heart thumps. My knees go weak. My hands need to touch him everywhere. My, my, my.
The bell rings loudly. We jump apart.
At first we both make freaked-out eyes at each other, because we got totally carried away at school, but then he starts to laugh.
“Yep,” he says, straightening his sweatshirt and smoothing his hair. “Definitely don’t need any more biology lessons.”
That night at my house, we’re sitting on the den couch doing homework. He’s reading Fahrenheit 451 for English and I’m doing my calculus, which I do not understand in the least and I’m hoping will click real soon. Reclining against the armrest, I put my feet in his lap. Yeah, it’s forward of me, but he’s just so cute and it seems only fair after he riled me up in study hall today. He looks down at my socks for a long moment, then rests a hand on top of them.
We keep working in silence. When I rub my foot along his thigh, he responds by massaging it. His thumb grazes my arch, sending shivers up my spine.
“What are your parents doing?” he asks.
“Event over at the chamber of commerce.”
“Do you know how long they’ll be gone?”
“Another hour, I think.”