Trespassing

Trip's POV

This morning, when I woke up, I had the sneaky suspicion Ava's arm had snaked around my torso. I couldn't be positive, could have just been a dream, since when I did manage to part my eyes no one was holding on. She'd been curled up behind me, head pressed to my shoulder blade.

It was the middle of the afternoon. We got up around eleven, and with the help of my phone's navigation system we'd been to tons of places—without getting lost. We'd been to North Point Park. Lots of kids were in that one, playing with water, sliding, using the swings—when we found an empty one I dared Ava to use it. At first she looked like a total bummed out kid, afterwards, I couldn't tear her away. It was embarrassing when a mother and a son showed up and I was pushing a seven-teen year old on a swing. From there, we crossed the pedestrian bridge leading into Paul Revere Park. It was a great park, among the views Ava couldn't get enough of, there were dogs. I always wanted a dog—mom never let me. Something about him ruining the carpets. I don't know what dad thought, most things about my life were in my wicked mother's hands. One thing was definitely in her hands—if I could only get it and toss it under a car... I'd be a free man.

"I know I said no geeky stuff but that bridge was amazing! How could you just stand there and say 'yeah, it's nice'." She shoved me for laughing.

In the second park we got a nice look at Zakim Bridge and just because it was suspended by cords or whatever, she'd found it stunning—the river underneath helped.

"There are tons of bridges like that in Europe. Here they're rare—so yeah, I've seen better." I repeated with a click of my tongue. "And... I guess we don't share the same fascination over sightseeing." We didn't. I didn't get all hyped about a nature view. Take the Amazons for example; to most people it was the most precious thing ever—to me? It was an overgrown forest crawling with all kinds of animals—deadly ones. But seeing those sights made her happy and when Ava was happy I felt a tinkle in my stomach, an extra light in my eyes.

"Well," she squared her shoulders stubbornly. "I've never been to Europe, so I declare that is the most amazing bridge ever." I gave her a side-glance. "Gonna argue about it?" she was trying to sound and look threatening. The problem was she wanted to smile as much as I did.

"Wouldn't dare, ma'am."

When I parked in front of a little supermarket Ava frowned. I didn't give her an answer, though. Five minutes later, I was back in my seat and she looked even more confused when she glared down at her lap.

"Eggs?" she muttered. "What are we going to do with eggs?"

I smirked, "You'll see." I drove us around for a couple of more blocks until I found a parking spot close to a house with a fire escape. You'd think these things would be everywhere like in NY.

"Trip?" she piped when I untangled my seat belt. "What are we doing here—with eggs?"

"You'll see," I assured again, winking. I grabbed the plastic bag from the convenience store telling her to put the box inside. "I'm going to pay for the meter. Be right back."

Most places you stopped around Boston you had to pay parking. That sucked. Ava was probably right about walking, it seemed way better. We'd gotten stuck in huge traffic lines. And we shouldn't be easy to surprise.

"Are you going to tell me why I'm carrying egg—"

"Shh," I hushed placing a finger to her lips—damn those were soft. "I said you'll see. Trust me and don't say a word."

"Trust you...?" she managed against my finger—I dropped it. "Just in case you forgot, you promised me we wouldn't end up in jail." I cocked my eyebrow at her. "Just saying," she shrugged her slim shoulders.

I led us up to the very top. We went from the fire escape to the roof. I smirked pulling on Ava's hand. We glimpsed down to the heavy crowded street.

"Ever played 'pigeon'?" I knew she hadn't before asking. It was a game me and Gabe created when we were like ten. It had been a while since I played it—if you could call it a game. It was more mischief than anything else.

"I'm guessing you were the one who came up with it?" I winked. "Of course," she sighed with fake dismay.

"Want me to show you how it's played?"

The innocent shinning of her pupils was coming out more and more around me. It was out right now. Her brown head nodded. When I took the bag from her numb fingers she understood—her hand reached out to stop me, but it was too late.

"Bombs away," I whispered with glee.

Ava watched with panic as the egg fell forever, it didn't seem like was ever going to—there was a curse from way down below. I held Ava's waist afraid she'd go over the edge. She was still looking down, a little speechless.

"Why... why did you do that?" she shook hair from her eyes—it was getting wavy, cool.

I leaned on the ledge.

"That's how you play, Ava. You take an egg and drop it."

"What's the fun in that?" she crossed her arms unconvinced.

My lips tipped, "The egg goes splat and half the time you manage to piss someone off." I shrugged like it made total sense in my head. She cocked her head at me and I knew she wasn't seeing the fun. "There are people who throw golf balls from skyscrapers to relief their tension, me and Gabe found out using eggs was easier, cheaper and funnier."

"Okay..."

I sighed taking a step forward, offering my hand to her.

"You should try it." Ava eyed my hand like she was a germaphobe. "Loosen up, nothing bad will happen. Nothing ever happened to me and Gabriel. Nothing will happen to you." She still hesitated. "Would you throw an egg at your mom?"

"What?" she looked baffled.

I could have laughed, but that wouldn't have helped the process.

"If you could throw an egg at you mother for everything she makes you go through—would you do it?" I knew I would. Didn't mean I could.

"I..." Ava giggled. "I guess—but I can't, she'd bury me alive."

"Exactly," I wrapped my hand around hers, pulling her to me, to the ledge. I nodded down to the street. "We can't really exert revenge on our parents—so we take it out on them."

"You mean other people? The people who are calmly leading their lives until an egg crashes on their heads?"

"Yeah," she held my gaze for a minute, scowling. "But these people do the same thing. All people take out their frustrations differently. Some eat ice-cream and watch soap operas, others exercise until they fall over, drink, smoke—there's all kinds of stress reliefs. This one isn't that bad. Look," I said taking another egg. I showed it to her, holding it preciously in my palm. "In this box there were twelve eggs. Now, there are eleven. You get six eggs, I get five. Each egg you drop will be for a different problem. You put all your rage into it and when it drops it will be like the problem is gone." The truth was, it wouldn't be gone, but you'd think for a while you were free. "Try it once, if you don't like it we'll leave. I swear."

She eyed the egg, then me. I smiled brushing a thumb over her palm.

Ava's POV

It was insane. I was nuts. I dropped eggs on people—eggs! The best part—or worst—was I didn't feel bad. I felt... free. Weightless. I dropped six eggs on strangers. I shook my head trying anything to get rid of my stupid smile. I shouldn't be smiling widely because I'd done something bad—I giggled, oh come on... but... it was funny and liberating.

"Geez, Rosy, it's been what? Three hours." Wow—really? Time flew when Thomas was nearby. Jumping from place to place helped, too.

I sleeked my hair, tucking it behind my ears.

"I'm not use to doing... things like that. I think that was the second worst thing I've done in my whole life."

"Seriously?" Thomas threw out in laughter "What was the first?"

The nice tingles of freedom died with those four words. My jaw lined up. The first... the worst thing I had ever done... My arms were quick to cross over my chest as I leaned into the seat heavily. Silence befell us for minutes on end, before I whispered out, "I don't want to talk about it."

He didn't heave another graceful chuckle like he'd been doing. He didn't push the subject, so I guess he was ignoring the second car rule. Answering every question.

There was a throaty sound, "What are you going to name him?"

I blinked from my daze-like state—pushing my conflicted thoughts about Mia away, I looked down at my wolf cub. No, it wasn't an actual living wolf—though, that would be a major kick-ass gift. An hour back we'd been to FAO Schwartz—a two stories tall toy store. Sounded childish? Well, we'd seen older people acting worse than us. Parents acted like big kids there, playing with the games on display, moms helped their little girls play dress up; they had every item a girl needed to become a fairy princess, that was the truth. My favorite thing was the stuffed animal collection. The first time I laid eyes on the wolf I thought back to an old metaphor—about how Thomas was the alpha, the wolf who no one wanted to mess with. To top it off, the stuffed toy had blue eyes—too bad its fur was black, but I loved it all the same.

"I don't know..." I lifted the toy looking over its adorable puppy-wolf mixed face. "Wanna help?"

"No," well, that was flat. His stunning blues fell over me—a shy smile crept in. "I'm a guy. We don't think about that stuff," he stirred with one hand, spreading the other arm over the back of my seat. "I'd probably name it 'Black' or something lame." 'Black' was lame but I wouldn't tease him since he paid for it.

My mind worked in a strange way, digging up some name I never even thought of until this moment.

"His name's Ollie." I declared holding it near Trip's face. He pushed it aside giving me a scolding stare. Right, driving, whoops. "Ollie," I clutched it against my chest feeling silly.

I felt the car stop, he was parking and I was giving Ollie a bear hug.

"Ollie?" he questioned.

"Don't ask why. I just like it." I turned to Thomas leaving the wolf on my lap. "Why did we stop?"

"I thought we could see the river at night." I gazed out through the window. We were in a deserted parking lot. No one but us—I swallowed. "Afraid?"

"No," a little, though there were plenty of lights ahead. I wasn't sure from what.

Thomas snatched the cub from me. He held it against his cheek, a smile that made me swoon taking over his face.

"Think you can part with Ollie for a while?" when his voice was such a lush I'd do anything.

I nodded. Trip reached into the back, leaving Ollie there.

It was night. We'd spent a whole day in Boston, tomorrow was the last. I missed it already. Thomas walked over to my side offering his hand to me. I shouldn't, there should be a line—we should draw one. All we were doing was fooling ourselves.

I took his hand telling the line to screw itself.

Our footsteps made a funny sound on the cobblestone. We were reaching a gate, it probably led into a harbor—it was closed.

"I think it's a private harbor." I began turning around—

"I think we're going to jump." I think I lost my good sense.

"No, nah-huh—you said we wouldn't get into trouble. Jumping this gate seems a reason to end up in jail." I said those words, I did. Why wasn't I pulling away?

Because our foreheads leaned in. his nose brushed my ear, my hands touched his forearms when I lost balance.

"I told you nothing bad would happen with the eggs—I'm telling you again, trust me. Nothing will happen to us." I held my breath not wanting to pull apart anytime soon. On the other hand, I wanted to jump over the gate, wanted to try out the world of Thomas Harrington without hesitance. "Trust me?"

"Yes," he slipped an arm around my waist. I was hoisted so suddenly I nearly fell backward, my hand latched on the iron bar at the last minute, though. "A little warning would've been nice."

"And wait for you to change your mind?" I rolled my eyes. "Careful," he whispered letting go.

I lifted one leg to the other side, then another. I looked down, it wasn't too high. Maybe seven feet and a half...? It was better if I didn't think about it—a thud made my eyes snap open. On the other side, the one I was trying to kamikaze towards—was Thomas. How the...? When had he...?

His extra large smirk made my grip slip. I let out a 'oomph' landing in two strong holds.

"Would it be too cheesy saying you must have fallen from heaven—"

"Yes," I coiled a hand into his shirt. I fell from... up there. He caught me, if he hadn't been on this side... "How did you—how did you—you're fast." I settled when the words I wanted didn't surface.

His lips hovered my forehead. I felt every fear fall away, every heart beat slowed down, every cold part of me warmed.

"I'll always catch you." Thomas husked in my hair holding me close.

That was deep, too deep for my still spinning head.

"You can... put me down now." I let go of his shirt keeping my hands to myself.

Gently, Thomas placed me on my feet. I fiddled with my fingers until I couldn't, because he slipped his into mine. We were holding hands just like before the whole jumping-thing.

He smiled in the artificial light turning around, like he was saying "walk with me, come on, walk with me" I could hear those words echoing in my mind. I walked. On either side of us were boats of all types and sizes. The trail was illuminated by tall street lights; a few wooden benches littered the sidewalk here and there. All was quiet except for our steps and the sound of water silently sloshing back and forth.

"What's the craziest thing you want to do?" I made a face. "All the things we've done until now were things I came up with. It's your turn." We stopped; Thomas was looking down at me.

I shifted from foot to foot, shrugging.

"I don't know."

"You're blushing aren't you?" I didn't know how he could tell. I was looking down at the ground.

I smiled, "I'm not," I was. "And I can't think of anything."

Trip tsked, "That can't be true. Come on, Ava, think."

I surveyed our surroundings, stopping for a minute. Was I actually considering doing something insane? On my own—not on my own, but something that came from my head?

"I don't know..." but my eyes were plastered on the water's surface.

"You're being a chicken." I opened my mouth— "We're not in New York. You don't have to worry about anything. It's the whole point of this weekend."

Trip's POV

I walked closer to her, holding her waist against me—she wiggled making certain parts of me alive.

"Live a little—yolo." I shrugged.

Her face pinched before she laughed in my face. Her hands were on my shoulders breaking us apart somewhat. I didn't like that, not after what happened at the gate. She could have gotten hurt. I wanted to make sure every little bone in her body was just fine.

She breathed, "Oh my... did you just say 'yolo'?"

"Yeah, so?" I smirked in a cat-like fashion.

"So, it's like carpe diem for idiots." She giggled, my eyes rolled. Still I smiled faintly.

Ava dropped her hands, I released her. Our faces matched, we were looking wistful and I think we both knew why. All of a sudden, she reached for my arm.

"Something crazy and reckless that could get us into trouble?"

"Yeah," I whispered it so lowly I don't think she was able to hear it.

Ava's chocolate eyes teased mine before she tugged towards the edge of the harbor. My eyes fell to the calm river water. No way she was serious. Like hell Ava would—

"Do you know how to swim?" my eyebrows shot. She gave one shoulder shrug. "You asked for crazy. Well, this is pretty crazy." And impulsive.

We were in a private harbor. I knew there had to be a guard patrolling somewhere—I told her we'd be fine so she'd loosen up. If we got caught we would be spending the night in jail, now that wasn't cozy at all.

When I looked to her she was tossing her shoes aside—fuck, she was serious. This water had to be freezing.

Her gaze lifted to mine and recoiled.

"It's a bad idea—" yes.

"No," probably the most stupid thing I've ever said in my life. "It's an amazing idea." I worked so hard to get her to lose all that tautness all day... if I said we wouldn't do this, all my work would be ruined. Plus, it was like skinny dipping. "But we only toss our shoes." I unlaced my converse tossing them to where hers were.

We stood side by side on the harbor's edge. This was crazy, maybe not the craziest thing I'd ever done—but it was pretty nuts. I knew the water had to be ice-cold. She did too.

Ava looked like she wanted to back down—my hand slipped into hers. No way.

"You had the idea, you shared it. No backing down now." She didn't look all that convinced. "It might be the best idea you ever had." Definitely not and that's why I loved it—

The water surrounded us like a freezing mantle. At first, I inhaled some of it. My lungs complained, all I wanted was to break to the surface so I could breathe. The thermal shock was big, bigger than I'd anticipated. I kicked my legs, my feet were probably the coldest things—the warmest was my left hand. The one holding Ava's.

I drew a big breath of air. It occurred to me, that I'd just dunked myself into cold-ass water for a girl. Yeah, I was whipped. Gabriel was right. I hated him for it. But he was right—I hated when he was right. Hadn't I thought that already? That I hated him? I think my brain froze over those little seconds.

New York was miles away. There were no problems here in Boston. We were far from all our parents' dilemmas. They weren't here to force us into doing a thing. We could do what we damned pleased. And fuck, if I wasn't going mad about...

"Is jumping into a freezing river your craziest idea?" I teased when she matted her hair aside, pinning it.

The moonlight rained down on Ava making her seem heaven sent. A vision from another world—it sounded girly, cheesy and whatever the hell, but it was true. She was looking astonishing right there—a siren calling singing the song I wanted to hear. Her chin rested above the surface and although she was cold, there was a smile. A smile that made me feel the luckiest son of a bitch ever known to mankind, just because I was seeing it.

"You know we can go to jail for this, right? Swimming here is illegal and we're trespassing."

"Yes, we are." I agreed padding closer to where she was keeping afloat.

We were trespassing on a lot of things, not just the harbor. Hell, we'd been trespassing in each other's lives for over a month and a half. I loved every second of it, even the parts where she wanted to put a bullet between my eyes and it made me the most insane person out there. I was mad as a hatter when it came to her. And I wanted to trespass a little more.

I stopped thinking and started acting.

When you fantasized about something, your expectations tended to be very high. When you ended up doing the thing you had longed for… it never seemed to reach your standards. Ava was a complete opposite of that theory.

The lips I'd been near so many times tasted exceptionally rich. Sweet, delicate… my hand weaved into her water coated hair; with numb fingers I angled her face better. The soft of her skin was lost to me. Eyebrows knitting I pulled back. Her eyes were completely wide—shocked.

Crap.

My heart did all the kinds of things guys wouldn't be caught dead admitting. My body entered a super-nova state as Ava's hands cupped my cheeks, leaning down she greedily took over my lips. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the most incredible kiss in my life.

An arm wrapped her tight against me, my legs continued kicking for both of us at some point—I nipped at the full bottom lip like it was ambrosia. I had no fucking idea how that was supposed to taste in those Greeks or whatever but… but I knew what they tasted couldn't have been perfection. It couldn't have been paradise—because Ava's lips opened Eden's gates.

Her head twisted to another side and I could feel heat rising from our bodies. All the pent up longing and lust had finally surfaced—had finally won out. And damn… It felt great to give in. Temptation was the sweetest thing, no wonder humans had given in, and shit, if that apple had tasted this good to Adam and Eve damnation had been freaking worth it.

Ava's POV

I forgot to paddle my legs—I didn't truly care. I could go under and never come up. After tasting him—his lips—I would die happy. I would drown with a smile on my face. It sounded exaggerated, I should know that. In my head it sounded the best way to go—I felt accomplished, complete. My life had a new flavor, a new color and it rocked. Thomas hadn't tasted better than this in my imagination. He was a well of divine perfection—the more I told myself to let go of him the more I clung. I wasn't sure of my movements; this… this was my first kiss.

My very first kiss.

The taste of his lips made me want to give up cherries and live only on him. I kept tugging Thomas' head to mine, but knew we couldn't go at it much longer—not without parting for air.

It was a shame and a rush being inside water. My fingers were icy like the river, I couldn't feel his skin properly—but knew it was smooth like silk—I couldn't decipher the texture of his hair despite messing it from right to left. It was also a pity that we weren't kissing on land because I was sure this kiss would make my toes curl. Still, this was my first kiss, it was dangerous and memorable.

"Thomas…" I'm sure I gasped it once our mouths shifted.

He didn't hear; I didn't care because I had no idea why I'd said it. Why did we need words?

The heat generated by our ravishing kiss began extinguishing faster, coldness drifted from my feet to my knees—from there to my waist—finally it shot to the rest. Thomas was probably experiencing the same thermal sensation—we jolted apart. Trip's hair splayed over his forehead. I saw the incredibly wet strands, in the pale moonlight the droplets running down appeared to flicker like diamonds—

"Worst idea ever," his teeth nearly chattered. "This is freezing—fucking cold…"

Well, that was really unforgettable, not what I thought I'd hear after kissing. Meanwhile, my feet grew into heavy icicles, like cement boots only cold.

"It's okay, lean on me." My eyes shouldn't have bulged when he circled my waist—his arm had been there for a long time. "You were sinking for a minute there." Thomas pulled me, closing our distance again. "Slip your arms 'round my neck." He instructed softly, legs kicking to keep us above water level.

"You said… it was a great idea." My shaky words breezed through his ear.

The chuckle warmed up my insides, like warm vodka sliding down my throat.

"It was a crazy thing, Ava—I loved it." He drew a breath moving us closer to the shore. "Hold on," I nodded paddling my legs a little getting a good vice grip on his shoulders.

"Trip—" I squeaked as he grabbed my hips under water—I stopped thinking when he lifted me. "Let go now," he smiled. "Pull yourself out."

I did, seeing as water was getting into his mouth. The stone prickled my feet. Our kicked off shoes were side-by-side. Chills crammed my body; the clothes were pasted to me—like they'd been glued.

A water motion came from behind and I hopped off the ledge to the floor. Thomas was… I swallowed. The white shirt was stamped against the tautness of his chest, showing every detail underneath. He could've been topless.

"You're shaking." I pointed out rubbing my trembling arms—were we going to get pneumonia?

Trip moved towards me.

"Same to you," he took my soaked hair, squeezing it. I heard water drops falling, splashing on the cobblestone. "What is it?" he leaned closer having caught my dazed eyes.

I drew my shoulders, "You kissed me…"

Thomas stayed still and quiet. I didn't know what to do or say. His eyes gleamed in a lighter blue as they moved down, closer to mine.

"You kissed me," he whispered teasingly. "I… I think we kissed each other." It was spoken tenderly, enough to make a shudder ripple through me.

My fingers twitched wanting to touch him all over. It was like an addiction, his soft skin and hair… the total kissable lips left me wanting more.

"Hey!" we tensed up. "You two, what are you doing here? This is a private harbor!"

I wanted to say 'I told you so' but a very big part of me wished that I'd been wrong.

"Shit," Thomas cursed hand diving for mine. "Grab your shoes."

I crouched just as he did, grabbing my pair of boots.

"Now what?" I shrieked softly.

The police man was running, coming closer wielding a flashlight. If he identified us, we were done for. Our parents would find out where we were; that we'd lied—my mom would… honestly, I couldn't phantom much of anything when my eyes were caught on the light aiming at us.

"Now," he breathed a chuckle brought on by adrenaline. "We run like hell." And he tugged on me running like his life depended on it—maybe it did.

My leg muscles had been tense when I forced them to work at high speed, now, they began to yield, comply with my needs. The rush of pure fear had an exciting edge I had never felt before, like I tasted something sweet and sour—bittersweet. It kept me wanting more, like… Thomas' lips. We passed all the expensive boats, Yates, launches—my body was given a forceful tug backward, my back crashed into a taut, familiar surface. Before I could look up an embrace hoisted my waist—fingers curling around his arms, I felt paralyzed.

"Shh," Thomas soothed obviously feeling my muscles locking up. What if I couldn't jump? What if I tripped again— "Don't think about it, just jump. It will be fine." I wanted to argue with him, saying he wouldn't be there to catch me—a yell from behind us told me I should get with the program already. "Ava—"

Like a maniac on a rampage, I grasped the metal gate. After chucking my boots over, I jumped. The landing wasn't steady; I nearly fell back on my crouch. Still reeling I collected my shoes watching Trip climbing with impressive ease and accuracy—both the jump and landing were purely athletic.

I took a mid-second to swoon and think 'Wow. That guy is awesome and he kissed me'.

"How many times have you done something like this?" I managed out of breath, trailing behind him through the empty parking lot, only our car in sight.

"Running from the police?" I nodded. "One too many times." He laughed unlocking the car.

I piled in without thinking about getting the seats wet or not. I was dying to get out of there. Somewhere in the distance I saw the man's flash light coming but wasn't afraid, Thomas was driving us away.

***

The ride to the hotel was quiet, swift and when we entered the lobby we got all sorts of looks from the employees and other customers. Being used to attention—us both—we strolled into an elevator without giving anyone a look.

When we reached our room I looked down at Ollie. He was nice and warm, to keep him that way, I placed him on the love seat. That was when awkward silence ensued. Neither one of us spoke, or looked at one another. Not until I shivered.

"You should take the first shower." Thomas combed hazel hair away from his eyes.

Smirking a little I nodded, "Yeah, with your hot water fetish I should go first." There was a semi-amused glare my way.

I took fresh clothes with me, the warmest things I had were jeans and a skinny sweater. The shower did nothing to ease the pounding of my heart, the anxiety of it all—what we'd done could never be undone, forgotten. It happened. There was no taking that back—it was a memory.

I scrubbed harder at my hair as if that would erase it, wipe it away. Obviously, it didn't work. It just got my hair in a lot of tangles, I grimaced.

When I was warm in my clean clothes and walked out, Thomas was hanging by the window, watching the outside with distant eyes.

"Your turn," it felt wrong talking in the abundant silence, like I was violating some sacred rule.

His head whipped to me, and his eyes stared.

"What…?" I drew out drying the ends of my hair.

Trip remained watching me until he grabbed clothing of his own. While he marched inside the bathroom I heard him throw over his shoulder, "You're sexy with wet hair."

There were parts of me—lady parts—that felt hot, hammering with blood. It wasn't just what he'd said; it had been the way his voice sounded, deep, husky—like melted caramel. It undid me.

I sat on bed after making sure most of my hair was dry. My legs came up, placing my chin on my knees. I could still feel a lingering coldness in my bones; no matter how much I shook my body… it didn't disappear.

Not even ten minutes later, Thomas came through the bathroom door dressed in the flannel pajama bottoms and a thick looking sweater. I recognized it from last year's winter collection. The hair was almost dried off five minutes later, when he shook his head side-ways really fast I kept in a giggle.

"Hey," he muttered having tossed the towel behind him.

Stretching out my stiff legs I caught his eye.

"Hey back," my arms crossed, I felt unsure of what to do or say.

His amazing sapphires didn't leave me, not as he rounded to his side of bed, not as he crawled to where I was and not as he drew me in—into his arms. He moved me around like I was a doll.

"Is this warmer?"

Was I warmer nestled between his legs? Yes, I thought so. I wanted this, wanted to let myself sag into his comfort and warmth, wanted to wrap my arms around him—I couldn't. Thomas thought I could, though. The circle around me grew a little smaller, tilting me into his chest.

"Ava?" he murmured.

"It's warmer…" my head subconsciously rubbed into his shoulder. It felt so nice…

"Good. I want you to be comfortable." What should I make of those words?

The real question was: what should I—we—make of all this?

Every fiber in me screamed to stay right there, against him. I couldn't. I twisted my body, unhooked his arms from around me—his arm muscles flexed at first, not wanting to give in, then as our eyes met he let go.

"Thomas…" I sighed rubbing my face—why was it so complicated back home? Why couldn't we just be two teenagers?

"I know," he whispered in that melodic tone—my eyes shot up. "I know."

He knew. He knew before I said anything, he really did. We both knew what a big mistake we'd committed. Our lives weren't our own, we couldn't be together and now…

He slid closer to me, reaching out a hand that I pushed away. Thomas' priceless eyes had hurt written all over, then they sobered up; he understood, the hand dropped.

"I really like you, Ava, I really do…" nothing good came with those words, I'd watched enough movies and TV shows to know it.

"I really like you too." My words matched his; they were also imprinted with suffering.

I looked at him from below my lashes feeling infinitely small, fragile—vulnerable, like a single flower standing in a meadow fighting against the wind.

Thomas leaned his head against mine, seconds later he backed up.

"I shouldn't have kissed you." That was the wind ripping me away. The truth slashed my heart, mine and his. "I'm sorry," he shifted his eyes off of me. Right then, I couldn't tell what was going through his mind—I squirmed when he faced me anew. "I knew we couldn't—we shouldn't but I just…" lost it, I thought. He pinched the bridge of his nose, head shaking . "Now… now is just going to be harder."

"What is…?" like I didn't know.

"Being around you," I winced to myself. All that coiled anger stashed deep inside his eyes shook, I knew it wasn't directed at me—it was at himself. I hated that even more. "Knowing what you taste like and knowing I can't have you." Shudders rippled along my hand when a single, tender finger brushed across it.

I couldn't have him, not when every weekend he belonged to every other model Giselle hired. A fire grew deep in my stomach, a need to ruin her perfect Ice Queen face. I wanted to comfort Thomas. I knew there was nothing I could do or say that would ease the heartache, because there was nothing he could tell me that would help. We were in the same boat.

"What's going to happen now… to us?" I asked the same question he had when I found out about his weekend 'hobby'.

Thomas' mouth lined up. It was a straight line cold as marble.

"I don't know." He heaved—before I noticed he was sliding off the bed. I blinked startled, blurry eyes stared up at him. "I'll take the couch." Trip grabbed his pillow and a spare blanket from the closet— "Ava," he drew out. My fingers were curled in the hem of his sweater. "No… come on, don't make this harder than it already is." He was looking straight into my eyes, I wasn't sure what he was seeing in them but… he took a step back, and another and another—until he sat down beside me. "I'm beginning to dislike that." he muttered innocently.

I cocked my head.

"What?" I didn't resist inching closer.

Thomas didn't turn to glance at me. It made me hum with sadness. I knew I would regret this later, that I was inflicting wounds on his own heart—but I just needed… needed a little more of him. I was being so selfish it disgusted me. My arms went around his chest, my head dropped to the crook of his neck. A very satisfied sound came from his throat, Thomas liked being near me just as I liked being near him. That downed my guilt a little.

"Ollie can sleep with you tonight." I thought I'd never hear that intoxicating chuckle of his again—he felt so... brokenhearted. I'd played a part in that—I responded to the kiss, made it last… I should've pushed him away. "Thomas…?" there was something I just needed to confess to him—it seemed important.

His fingers tentatively twined in the waves that were my hair.

"Hmm?"

Placing my lips to the level of his chin, I whispered, "That was my first kiss."

His hand became a paper weight on the base of my neck, cold as the cobblestone we had to run across.

"I just… thought you should know…" my eyes cast down to my lap.

I watched him go, settling on the loveseat that was two sizes too small for him, he'd have to curl up or sleep with his legs dangling off the couch's arm. When it was made clear to me that Thomas wasn't going to say a thing… I crawled under the sheets, curling up. I couldn't keep my eyes on the couch, not even when we killed the lights. I knew he was there, pained, angry, dismayed—everything I was.

After an hour of turning I was nowhere close to sleep. All I kept thinking about was the taste Thomas had, the nice tickles in my stomach when I saw, heard or thought of him, how my heart raced whenever we touched—nothing was lost to me. I hated that I felt those things, hated that I couldn't kill my feelings with a click of my fingers—my spine turned rigid.

I felt a warm, fury thing being pushed into my chest, going below the covers. My face loosened, I pretended to be deadly asleep. His overbearing warmth rushed me making it hard to stay immobile, impassive.

The words were a soft mutter, "Did you like your first kiss, Ava?" the gentleness was undeniable and it took a sheer amount of will power not to throw myself at him, kiss him.

Remaining 'asleep', I said nothing, moved nothing. Silently, I heard him march back to the couch. My hands felt around for what he'd pressed against me—Ollie, I deduced easily. A heart wrenching smile took up my lips in the darkness. It was horrible that I couldn't tell him I'd loved it, that I wanted to repeat it time and time again, but doing so would only aggravate the suffering—both our suffering.