“You promised me boring,” I whisper.
“I promise we will have nothing but boring explosions.”
Boring explosions. I can live with that. Razor throwing pie at Oz at the diner, Chevy and me arguing over comma placement in our English paper, then ending up in the hottest kiss of my life, making out under the bleachers during a basketball game and then serving detention for a week after being caught.
I can handle each and every one of those beautiful, boring explosions.
“Remember a few months ago when you were giving me orders as we were about to kiss?” Chevy asks.
I do. It was in the trailer and Chevy was helping me with my nerves. “Yes.”
“I feel that turnabout’s fair play.”
Eager to see where this is going, I nod in agreement. “Within reason.”
“Within reason,” he repeats. Chevy feathers his fingers along my neck and I love the ticklish sensation. “Dance with me, Violet.”
Chevy weaves an arm around my waist, pulls me to him until we’re body to body. My arms go around his neck and his eyes darken with lust as I lightly run my fingers along the strands of his hair near the base of his neck.
He leans down and his hot breath tickles my skin. “Head on my shoulder. You know how to do this right.”
Head on his shoulder and I become liquid in his arms. His body moves to the beat and I follow along, closing my eyes as I enjoy each and every way our bodies connect. The way his fingers trace up and down my spine. The light brushes of his lips on my neck. His strong hand on my hip and his finger that’s keeping time with the music.
A beat, another, and it keeps going until that beat is in my blood. My own hands begin to wander. Along his strong shoulders, down his back and along his arms.
“Violet,” he whispers again, but this time his voice is rough and strained.
“Yes?”
“Lift your head.”
I do and he cups my face. Heat encompasses me and so does the feeling that I belong, that I’m loved, that I’m his and he’s mine.
“I love you,” he says and his lips come so achingly close to touching mine. “And will you grant me the honor of going to prom with me?”
I’m beaming. Beaming. There’s no other word for it. “Yes.”
“Now, will you kiss me?”
Yes, a million times, yes.