Page 62 of What We Knew Then
Like he’s nervous.
I’m going to fucking melt into this couch. The surprising compliment washes over me and makes the room spin for a second. The broody transfer—who loves to trade barbs, build up the walls surrounding him—is casually complimenting my brain. I never would’ve guessed.
Instead of reaching for my laptop from the table, I lightly take Lane’s from his lap and set it next to mine.
When I look at him, his eyes make me catch my breath. Pushing his shoulders back, he follows the instruction, and I stand—only to straddle him. My knees push into the cushions and his hands immediately press into the side of my thighs, pushing up to my hips.
“All because I said I liked your brain, huh?” He smirks and I can’t wait another second. I put my lips on his. He kisses me back and something flutters in my chest. This feels so good. Like, an immediate lift to my mood.
Kissing Lane Maxwell is like my own serotonin booster.
“Not just that. This.” I gesture around his apartment. The invite to spend time together. “All of it.”
My lips dance in front of his and we’re a breath apart. He’s the one who closes the space this time. Lane’s hands move up my back and he leans forward, letting his hands hold me up. His strength has me moaning into it, moving my hips on him.
I sweep his lip with my tongue and deepen our kiss. My hands squeeze his shoulders and glide to his forearms—just wanting more contact. It’s like the alarm in my head is ringing withmore, more, more.
His mouth moves from my lips to my neck. He kisses down my skin and I tip my head back, giving him more of me. I swear he’s going to lick back up where his lips just grazed my skin but instead pulls back.
“I promised we’d get work done.” I press my forehead to his and he says, “I know you have more empty check boxes.”
He refers to my planner and I think I’m a goner. Like, who is this man? He’s trying to keep his promise.
“You’re right,” I say and I go to lift my leg up and over so I can get back to my side of the couch. Lane holds me in place, kissing me again.
“But when we’re finished…” He raises his brows and the heat starts to pool in my low belly.
Good god.
Chapter 39
LANE
SittingthisclosetoCora is a distraction most of the time. The fact that she gets so engrossed in the task makes it easier. But I’ve been interrupted more than once as I steal looks at her.
Once she’s wrapped into something, she mashes her lips together, back and forth. It’s not the first time I’ve noticed. She does the same thing when she’s calculating stats or when we work together.
It might also explain her lip balm habit. I swear, she’s always putting it on. But, to be fair, she’s always engrossed in something.
When she told me she currently has a 4.0, it was surprising for about a second—until I realized Coralee Banks is nothing like anyone I’ve met. Not even thinking about other girls, just other people. Everything she does, in my experience, she’s executing at the highest level.
It makes me want to do better.
Not that there’s any way I could ever get a 4.0. I’ve never been one to get the grades. Before I started staying with the Knights, most of my brain power went to trying to survive. Finding my next meal. Doing enough at school to fly under the radar. Get what I needed for hockey.
Cora smiles as she types something, like she’s finally figured it out. It’s alarming to think about the contrast between the two of us. Now. Before. I’m sure Cora grew up in a house where parents put food in the cupboards, celebrated birthdays, maybe even had dinner together every night.
A wave of… something washes over my skin. It’s almost like relief. It comes and goes, still, when I think back on the memories I’ve done my best to run from—tried to lock in a vault and throw away the key.
I’m out of it. It’s in the past. They can’t hurt me anymore.
Cora closes her laptop and announces, “Done.” She sighs out a low breath, leaning back into the couch cushions and closing her eyes.
Again, I don’t know how she does it all—the vision of the planner with all the checkboxes and things pops up in my brain. It’s like superhuman shit.
“You and me. What’s the plan?”
The question she asks catches me off guard. I knew we’d have to talk about it eventually. Sooner is probably better.
