Shiver : 13 Sexy Tales of Humor and Horror - Aurora Belle (читать книги онлайн бесплатно полные версии TXT) 📗

I laughed as we sat down. “Because it’s completely black outside and in?”

His eyebrows did that furrowing thing where they disappeared into the frames of his glasses. “Huh, I’d never thought of that being the reason. I always figured it was because it was the perfect location for a secret rendezvous.”

Was that what this was? It was dark enough in here to have sex and no one would know.

We were interrupted by the return of Martha bearing two steaming cups and a plate of brownies. At least they looked like brownies. It was hard to differentiate them from the black plate.

“Death by chocolate. Andrew’s favorite,” she announced, squeezing his shoulder.

After she walked away, I said, “She seems fond of you.”

“I’ve known her my entire life. She and my mother are friends.”

“Does your mom still live here?”

“She does.”

I was prying — I could tell by the tightness in his shoulders — but I couldn’t stop myself. He was talking and I wanted to keep him speaking.

“Why don’t you live at home?”

He laughed, but he didn’t smile. “What twenty-one year old wants to live at home with his mother?”

I giggled. “Right. That would be weird.”

“The dorm is probably worse. Freshman are unbelievable.”

“I remember being an idiot first year.”

“I probably shouldn’t say this, but the kneeing incident in the lounge with Hamilton is pretty legendary in Residence Life.”

“Nooo.” I tried to hide underneath the table and realized I wasn’t bendy, so I made myself invisible by covering my eyes with my hands.

He chuckled, and I peeked at him from between my fingers.

“Please say you are teasing.” He didn’t answer, but his eyes danced with amusement. “Does everyone know?”

“I’m sure some of the freshman don’t, but you’re a legend. Own it.”

“This explains my lack of a love life. I’m the girl who knees boys in the balls. No wonder no one has asked me out in ages. I’m cursed.” I gave up the fight and laid my head on the table where I was eye level with the brownies. “At least I can die from chocolate instead of humiliation. Nice knowing you.” I broke off a big bite of brownie and ate it without lifting my head.

Andrew still hadn’t said anything.

I wondered how much chocolate I’d have to consume to actually die.

He tilted his neck to the side to study me. After a few beats, he said, “You’re not cursed.”

I felt a familiar tingle from his gaze. “I wish I could believe you, but I’m beginning to think someone put a hex on me.” I sighed.

He laughed again. “Really?”

“It’s worse than you know.”

“I’d be able to tell, trust me. No hex, no curse.” His hand brushed my arm, sending a shiver over my skin, raising my hair into goose bumps. It was the exact opposite of unpleasant.

“Sam thinks I’m a witch,” I blurted out.

He choked on his hot chocolate.

“I know, right? Something about family ancestors and matrilineal genes or something. I think she’s confusing magic and Judaism.” I lifted my head off the table and sipped my drink, which tasted exactly like melted chocolate.

“That explains the smudging last weekend.”

“Sam is into Wicca this year.”

“And you? Do you believe in magic?”

“Not really.” I met his beautiful brown eyes, which reminded me of warm melted chocolate. There was a chocolate I’d like to die by. Death by Andrew. A familiar feeling fluttered low in my belly and I crossed my legs. It had been ages since anything fluttered.

“Just curses and hexes, but not the good stuff?” he asked, playing with his cup, suddenly interested in studying the grain of the wood on the table.

“Being able to hex someone sounds pretty good to me.” I remembered wishing Hamilton would fall and my delight when he did. “Or do you mean magical potions and flying brooms? Do you believe?”

He shrugged. “Growing up in Salem, you begin to believe in all sorts of things, both light and darkness.”

Sarah and Sam’s words about Mabon echoed in my head … the balance between light and dark. Hexes and love spells.

“I think Philips’ class is getting to me,” I said. “Everything so far this semester has turned into the same conversation.”

“Then let’s talk about something else. You know more about me than I do about you. Tell me something I don’t know.” He smiled, and when he leaned back into the shadows, the low table light emphasized his angular jaw and high cheekbones.

“I’m an English major, but you probably already guessed as much since we have class together. Minor in business.”

“Business, eh?”

“Not a lot of jobs out there for English majors. It was my father’s idea.”

“Smart man.”

“And your major?”

“Bio-chemistry.”

He looked like a chemistry major. All glasses and smarts.

“How does an upper level English class fit into that?”

“I like to read.” He gave me a small smile. “I know, it’s weird.”

I matched his expression. “I like boys who read.”

His smile faltered and was quickly replaced by a grin. “Good to know.”

We chatted about classes, majors, and life in the dorms as the dim light from the windows grew darker. Andrew wasn’t as weird as I’d imagined — more serious than weird. Kind of an old soul. And cute. Very cute. Even in a dark bookstore cafe.

Okay, that place was a little weird.

Andrew walked me back to my dorm, saying he was meeting up with Tate. When he paused before the wide steps to the entrance, I ended up standing two steps above him, making us about the same height. I could see the layers of brown in his eyes and a slim line of silver near his pupil. He had a fine layer of dark stubble along his pale jaw, which only accentuated the deep red of his lips. Women would kill for his lip color.

“Hey.” He grabbed my hand.

I looked down to where his fingers touched mine, then back up at his face.

My breath stalled at the look in his eyes; it was lust, pure and new.

“I had fun this afternoon.” His eyes flicked down to my lips.

“Me too.” I leaned slightly forward and inhaled, waiting.

This was one of those moments before a kiss. The air between us crackled and our bodies drew together like magnets. Allowing my eyes to drift closed, I slowly exhaled and waited.

His fingers flexed against mine for a second before he let go, but I didn’t feel him step away.

I slowly blinked open my eyes to meet his.

He had an eyelash on his cheek. I reached up to touch it, transferring it to my finger. “Make a wish,” I whispered, holding out the tip of my finger for him to see it.

“You keep it.”

“Are you sure?”

His eyes settled back on my lips. When he shook his head, his hair flopped over his eyes. “No.”

I frowned and blew on the lash, but didn’t make a wish. Time paused as I waited for him to do something. I expected him to walk away. I hoped he didn’t. After a moment of quiet with only the sound breeze rustling the dying leaves, I turned to step away. However, he lifted his hand to my cheek to stop me.

“Madison …” he whispered, inching closer to my lips. His eyes remained locked with mine until they began to blur. Once again, I closed my eyes. This time I felt his breath brush lightly across my lips. It was a split second that felt like infinity before his mouth made contact with mine.

I pressed against him. My lips, my chest, my hips were magnets seeking connection. I gasped at the sensation of his hand wrapping around my neck, tilting my head back. He accepted it as invitation, exploring, claiming my mouth with his tongue. My own hands gripped his shoulders before winding their way into the hair at the nape of his neck. It was soft, so soft. I wanted to bury my nose in it.

All too soon he paused and then broke off the kiss, letting his hand drop away from my skin.

I stood for a moment with my eyes closed and my lips parted, waiting for him to kiss me again. The cool air breached the warmth between our bodies, forcing me to open my eyes and accept the kiss was over.