Again, But Better

16. I’m a Goner
Forty minutes later, Pilot and I step off the elevator onto the
sixth floor. We make our way to the end of the hall, coming to
a stop outside the door, in a classic end-of-date posture.
“And so date number three draws to a close.” He smiles.
“We’re pretty good at this date thing.”
“I agree.”
He takes my hands in his, I lean forward, and our lips find
each other.
This kiss is fire again. I welcome the blaze, get lost in it.
My arms twist around his neck, and his hands run down
my sides, flames running rampant over my skin as they graze
over my thighs. And then I’m no longer on the ground.
My back’s against the wall, and my ankles lock around his
waist. I run my hands up from the base of his neck and
through his hair, and break away to catch my breath.
I glance down at the floor. “How did this happen?”
“Not sure. Something with time travel?” He bats his
eyelashes. They’re so nice and long.
My hands trail down his arms—they’re all banded with
muscle. Dang, he’s stronger than I thought. Our lips meet
again, slower and more deliberate. His hands run up my back.
Down my legs. A full-blown inferno is raging in me now.
We’re in a hallway
.

---

I pull away again. He smiles.
“We should probably go in and sleep, being that we’re in
the hostel hallway.”
“Okay.” He nods without breaking eye contact.
“You know you have really pretty eyes,” I tell him.
He closes them for a moment, smile broadening. “I was
thinking that same thing.”
I bite my tongue. “You were thinking about your eyes
too?”
He takes a step away from the wall, pursing his lips. Yes,
we should go inside, but my body wants to stay here with
Pilot. The craving is captivating. It really likes him. This never
happens … this always gets old pretty quickly. We kiss, it’s
nice, and I’m ready to say goodbye and go back to my own
personal space.
Not now. No, thanks. I want less space. No space.
We’ve entered into a staring contest.
“So, I think for us to go in, you’ll have to get down.” He
raises his eyebrows. I snort. 
Oh yeah
.
Instead of getting down, I tilt forward so our foreheads
meet. “I really like it up here.”
“I like you up here,” he breathes. He runs his hands down
my jeans again and my leg death-grip tightens. Then I’m
against the wall again, and his lips trail up my neck before
reaching mine. I pry up the front of his shirt.
In a hallway.
I drop the hem and break away. Suck in a
breath. “We have to stop.”
“Did we not stop?” He feigns confusion. I smile, and with
a great sigh, unhinge my legs and come back to earth,
ramming my hair back with my hand. The keys are on the
ground. Our jackets are on the ground. Wow.

---

“Well, we should do that again,” I add, casually turning the
key in the lock.
“Agreed.”
I swing the door open. The older man is sleeping in the far-
right corner, and there’s a younger dude two beds over. I drop
my purse on the bed and look over at Pilot. He’s still lingering
by the door.
This could all disappear tomorrow.
He meets my eyes and raises his eyebrows. “What?”
I walk over and take his hand. Before I lose my nerve, I
pull him toward the bathroom.
What am I doing?
I close the door behind us. Click in the locks on both sides.
Pilot watches me carefully. I undo the top button of his plaid
shirt. He doesn’t move, so I continue, watching his face. I
reach up and push the shirt off his shoulders. It falls. He’s
wearing a white T-shirt underneath. His hands take my waist
and slide under my own shirt. They work their way up my
stomach, sliding against my skin, pushing off the top as they
go.
“Do you want to…?” he breathes.
“Yeah, you?” I smile.
“I do, but.” He laughs and hooks his fingers through my
belt loops and draws me closer. “In this bathroom just seems
so un-you.”
He’s right. I do hate this bathroom. His fingers trail around
my lower back, tracing the waistband of my jeans. Fire. Fire.
Fire.
“Right now, I don’t see the bathroom,” I answer honestly.
He exhales a breath, and his fingers move to unbutton my
jeans. He lowers himself down to his knees and slowly guides
them off. His fingers trace lines down my legs.

---

I’m trying to breathe normally. It’s not happening.
I step out of the pants, still wearing my army boots because
let’s be real, this floor can’t be trusted. As he rises off the
ground, he picks me up again. It’s the hottest thing that’s ever
happened in my romantic history. I wrap my arms around him.
My legs relock over his waist. Our lips meet. More flames. We
move. He settles me on the sink.