Tired of watching the two of them paw at each other, I glance outside. Despite the fact that it’s dinner time, the sidewalk is packed with people dodging each other as they rush to their destinations. Most people are carrying shopping bags or takeout as they hurry by, but then I notice one person in the crowd who’s not moving at all. Across the street, Drew is leaning against a telephone pole, motionless, looking like he’s in the middle of a photo shoot. Our eyes meet and I feel instantly, inexplicably guilty. His expression is calm but expectant, as if he’s biding his time, just waiting for something to happen.

“Are you kidding? No way! That’s awesome!” The table erupts in loud exclamations and I know I’ve missed something big.

“What?” I ask, confused. Kat’s eyes are shining like she just scored a big discount at her favorite shoe store.

“Isn’t that romantic?” Rayne says excitedly. “Oh my God, can you imagine the stories they can tell to their kids?”

“What? You’re pregnant?” I stare at Kat, wondering how she managed to keep all this from me.

Kat reaches over and smacks me on the head while everyone else laughs. “I’m not pregnant! Do you listen to anything? I’m going to go live with Owen. In London.” As she talks, Owen sits there with a grin so wide it looks like his face is going to break open.

“When?” My mind feels like it’s full of confusing information. I look over at Griffon, but his shrug tells me he didn’t know anything about it.

“Next week,” she says. “I couldn’t get a flight back with him, so I’m meeting Owen there. Plus, that’ll give me a chance to wrap up things with Francesca.”

“But what about the Fashion Institute? Mom and Dad already paid for the first semester and everything. They’re going to kill you.”

“It’s just a deposit. I’ll pay them back once I get a job. And I’m looking into the London College of Fashion and the Royal College of Art. Anything I can do here, I can do there.”

“Except me,” Owen says. “You can only do me there.”

Kat nudges him, but there’s a smile on her face. I’m guessing Owen, with his accent, is the only person alive who could get away with a comment like that. “Stop.”

“What about Mom and Dad?” I repeat.

“What about them? I’m eighteen, I can do what I want. I was set to move out in September anyway. I’m just pushing things forward a little bit.”

“You’re not going to tell them, are you?”

“I am,” she says, glancing at Owen. “But not right away. And you better not either.”

I sit at the table, my appetite suddenly gone, not wanting to make any more promises I’m not sure I can keep. Kat’s right—she’s eighteen and can do whatever she wants. She can meet a guy, go out with him for a couple of weeks, and fly halfway across the world to live with him, while I have to fight to stay out past midnight.

“I won’t tell,” I say, taking another sip of my drink. “But you can’t just leave me here to deal with it all. You have to tell them before you go.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll tell them before I go.” She looks at Owen again and giggles. “Right before. Maybe I’ll call them on the way to the airport. I can’t believe I’m actually going to live in London!”

London. The Tower of London was where everything changed just a few short months ago. I glance out the window, my heart thumping, but at the telephone pole across the street there’s nothing but a bunch of flyers flapping in the wind.

Eight

Griffon’s house is dark as we walk up to the porch. Besides his bike, the driveway is empty, no sign of the red truck anywhere. “What’s going on? Is Janine out?”

“All night.” A sly grin spreads across Griffon’s face. “She’s at a conference in LA. We have the whole place to ourselves.”

My insides flutter at the thought of being with him all night. Of waking up next to him tomorrow morning with his body curled around mine. Of everything that can happen in between. “I might have to unexpectedly be spending the night at Rayne’s.”

He smiles wide. “That would be great. Will your parents buy it?”

I shrug. Ever since Kat’s big announcement at the restaurant last night, I seem to care a little less if they’re mad at me. “It happens enough so that they won’t get suspicious. I think they’re having dinner together again tonight, so they’ll probably be happy to have me out of the house.”

“You think they’re getting back together? That’s so cute.”

I wrinkle my nose. “I’m not sure about cute. I’m not sure they’re getting back together either, just that they’re hanging out a lot more than they used to.” As much as I’d like for them to live together again, the thought that they might be doing more than just having dinner or going to the theater makes me a little nauseous.

Griffon unlocks the front door. “Wait here just a second,” he says as he ducks inside. Something smells good, filling the house like it’s been cooking all day. I hear him flip a switch, and in an instant the hallway and living room are rimmed with tiny clear lights that are hung everywhere. The effect is like soft candlelight.

“Oh wow!” He’s got them strung through the banister all the way up to the second floor. “Is that a hint?”

He looks confused. “Is what a hint?”

“The lights on the stairs. They look like runway markers pointing the way to your bedroom.”

Griffon laughs. “You have a dirty mind. I didn’t really think of it that way, but now that you mention it . . .” He kicks the door shut behind us and swoops down to pick me up as he heads for the stairs. At the bottom step, he sets me down. “I’m just kidding.”

I suppress a smile and fix him with my best stare. “I’m not.” I grab his hand and pull him up the stairs to the landing.

Griffon laces his fingers through mine and bends down to kiss me. Just the slightest touch sends shivers through my body as if everything is on high alert tonight.

“I really did make you dinner,” he says. “I’m an excellent cook.”

“I bet you are,” I answer, my words coming slowly as my body’s reactions take over. “But right now, I want something else.” There’s a question in Griffon’s eyes as I lead him up the rest of the stairs, and I know he’s worried about pushing me too fast.

Griffon turns on the small desk lamp and his room is bathed in soft light. His bed is actually made this time, with a comforter and pillows propped up against the headboard. I have a suspicion that he might have even changed the sheets. The idea that he thought we’d end up here turns some of my excitement into nerves.

He walks over to where I’m standing next to the bed, and I feel suddenly awkward and unsure of myself. I’ve pictured this in my head a million times, but in the last few moments it’s like my body has no idea what to do. Griffon inhales deeply as he kisses me, as if he’s trying to imprint this on all of his senses. I close my eyes and kiss him back, relaxing a little as instinct starts to take over. My hands move under his shirt to feel his warm skin—we came up here so fast we’re both still wearing our jackets. Griffon shrugs his off with one quick movement, but kisses my neck slowly as he pulls my leather jacket off one arm at a time and drops it onto the floor.

We separate, but the vibrations between us are so insistent that I can sense them even when we’re not touching. Griffon sits on the bed and kicks his shoes off, reaching up with one hand to pull me down with him. A giggle escapes as I sit down next to him and I’m instantly embarrassed. “Sorry. I guess I’m just nervous.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” I’m sure lots of guys have said this in a similar situation, but I can tell from his face that he actually means it.

I want to take control of things, to show him how much I want him with me. To show him that Drew means nothing to me. With everything I’ve been remembering about my past, I feel older in a lot of ways, like tiny pieces of those experiences are making an impression on who I am today. I’m not feeling all that much like the sixteen-year-old I see in the mirror anymore. “I do want to. All I want is to be with you.”

Griffon leans back against the pillows and I straddle his body, undoing each button on my shirt as he watches, not saying a word. Despite his silence, I can see him fighting for control, and I feel powerful with every gesture. When my shirt’s undone, he reaches up with two fingers and eases it off my shoulders until there’s nothing left but my ankh and the black lacy bra I stole from Kat ages ago, hoping for an occasion when someone besides me would see it.

Griffon’s hand trembles slightly as he reaches up and strokes my neck, working his way down to my stomach and the top of my jeans. “You are so beautiful. The best part of every day is when I catch a glimpse of you, even if it’s just for a few moments.”

In response, I ease his T-shirt up over his head and toss it onto the floor, biting my lip at the sight of the smooth brown skin that seems to shine in the dim light. I reach out to touch the muscles on his stomach, feeling his desire as if it’s a caress washing over me in waves, and the intensity of it scares me. All of a sudden I want this part to be over, to be on the other side of the big event so that we can move forward together. It’s not that I don’t want Griffon to be my first time, because I do; it’s just that there’s so much expectation put on one moment in time that my heart starts to beat hard with anxiety.

Griffon pulls me to him, oblivious of the conflict going on inside my head. I try to quiet my fears and focus on the sensations, knowing I won’t ever forget any of it, so I don’t want to ruin it by thinking too much. I close my eyes and try to surrender myself to his touch, to the vibrations between us that are increasing by the second.