Eight Letters. Three Words.

Eight Letters. Three Words - Ch. 19

He smirked, “Sex,”

Dylan sighed beside me; I answered him by rolling my eyes in response. In the next second, to everyone’s surprise Katelyn Cross raised her hand, “There’s more to it than that,” she argued. “Lysistrata, shows how the men were obsessed with the idea of sex, it was their week point. So the women, being smart, decided to stop satisfying their needs until they respected them, and saw them as equals,”

“Very well Miss. Cross, Mr. Matthews get your head out of the gutter please,” Ms. Yallow smiled again, chirpily continuing with the class.

“I’m shocked,”

Dylan chuckled beside me, “Shocked that Katelyn managed to perform a sentence and showed real intelligence?” I nodded dumbfounded.

When the class finished Dylan grabbed my hand, entwining our fingers together and pulled me towards the crowded hallway.

“You have soft hands,” I rubbed my thumb over his knuckles, ignoring his amused expression. “I like holding them,”

He chuckled then, passing students stopping to watch. It was quite an image actually, Chloe Foster was holding hands with Dylan Miller. The boy who didn’t date, everyone knew it. I knew it. Yet here I was.

“I like you hair,” his fingers brushed through the lose tendrils which had escaped my bun. “It smells nice. Cinnamon and something else,”

He brushed his lips over my temple, making me stiffen as I tried to ignore the people. They’re looks… Get a grip Chloe!

“Stop,” I whispered.

He did, but only to level me so that his grey eyes bore into mine, “Ten hours,”

“What?”

“The amount of time I’ve been without kissing you. It’s been ten hours,”

“And we can’t just talk, can we?”

My words were meant to be playful, but something in Dylan’s expression told me I had triggered something, he wrapped his hands around my wrists. “We can talk. Any time, don’t think I only want to-”

I shushed him. Wrapping my hand around the front of his shirt, pulled him to me, and kissed him. He chuckled, the vibration buzzing through our kiss. I’m bold, but I’d never been this bold. With Dylan, I could be. He liked bold. If his return kiss was any indication, he liked it a whole lot.

We kissed until the bell rang, then he pulled back but only to glower in the direction of the bell.

I laughed.

He stayed put, hands resting on my hips. “I have training; we need to go over tonight’s strategy,”

“I’d wish you luck, but we both know you’ll do great,”

He looked surprised, “You’ll be there?”

I nodded, my boldness seeping away. “I thought it would be the right time to finally go,”

“I’ll be looking for you,” he murmured, and brushing my forehead with his lips lightly he ran away in the direction of the gym.

Clapping from behind, stopped me in my heels as I made my way towards the cafeteria, “Bravo! You should be so proud of yourself.”

Brendan was standing a foot away, his signature smirk covering his face, “How long did it take you to make him fall for you? Three, four weeks?”