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The Fifteen-Minute Make-out

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“I hate how much I love you boy.”

—Rihanna ft. Ne-Yo, “Hate That I Love You”

It feels too good.

It feels too good.

It feels too good.

Lizzie chanted to herself to break the spell of the warm frenzy building between her and Todd as he nibbled at her ear and stroked her side. Her breath hitched. Every time she attempted to move an inch or say something to slow the rush, he’d do something magical with his fingers or lips.

She tried again, managing to move her head an inch.

Victory.

She parted her lips to say something (anything), and Todd’s lips moved to hers. She instinctively kissed him back, rolling the icy cool taste of Orbit spearmint around her tongue, savoring it. It was hard to chew gum now without thinking of Todd and flushing.

As a matter-of-fact, it was hard to do a lot of things without thinking of Todd.

The realization struck her dumb.

No matter how hard she tried, it was hard to connect that a practical, straight A, theatre geek like her not only had a serious boyfriend, but a popular, honest-to-goodness hot guy as well.

Six-foot one; blue eyes; unruly, light walnuty hair highlighted blond; and ready with a joke the second he opened his mouth, Todd had a hot surfer dude look going. Truth be told, even when he let the blond grow out, he was easy on the eyes. He was also a full member of Club Six-Pack. And his biceps and chest weren’t bad, either. If Lizzie hadn’t seen his body change with her own eyes, she would have never believed someone could go from skinny to sculpted in two years.

Yet it still took her by surprise when girls went out of their way to flirt with him or give her nasty looks when she and Todd walked down the hall together. To her, he was still the goofy, too skinny T who used to shadow JZ like a puppy when they were ten years old. Because of that, and their middle school friendship, she and Todd were a comfortable couple. She never felt self-conscious around him because whenever her nerves would attempt a takeover, like worrying that she had food stuck in her teeth and she had to get it off before he saw it, Todd would poke fun at it, reminding her that he didn’t care about her being the perfect girl.

Everyone seemed to know Todd was hot, except Todd.

That made it easy to get caught up in his charm.

Except…Lizzie wasn’t ready to be completely gaga.

She was changing, and some of the changes felt good. Really good, in fact.

But mostly, they were unsettling. Like now. Why couldn’t she open her mouth to say, “Hey, let’s take a break?”

How come her brain was directing her body to move, get up, put some space between her and Todd, and her body wouldn’t obey?

Todd was becoming a priority in ways Lizzie had always secretly vowed no guy ever would.

Flubbing lines in theatre when he popped into her mind. Getting a B on her Chem test after their first real argument—she didn’t recognize herself sometimes.

But things were about to take a turn if all went according to plan.

Todd’s kisses rained down on her in quick pecks, like a yappy dog nipping at her heel. She met his lips with her own slow, but firm kisses encouraging him to gel with her, easing him back a little until their kissing was in sync. Her resolve melted. It always did around the twelve-minute make-out mark. Instead of panicking that things were going too far, Lizzie gave in, savoring Todd’s warm breath on her neck, ears, then his lips on hers.

Step one of her plan would kick in in exactly five…

Todd’s tongue darted in her mouth for a quick visit, then was gone.

Four…

His hands pushed her shirt up just enough so Lizzie could feel their coolness on her warm belly.

Three…

He stroked her waist, careful not to go near her armpit (he’d learned the hard way that she’d burst into a fit of giggles, busting up the mood) but working closer to her bra.

Two…

Lizzie inhaled sharply as his hands made soft, smooth circles on her belly.

One…

Todd’s fingers were on the front clasp of her bra just as Lizzie’s cell phone blared “One” from A Chorus Line, filling the room, “One, singular sensation, ev’ry little step she takes.”

Todd hesitated for a fleeting second.

Lizzie pushed herself upright. Her chest heaved as she ran her fingers through her tousled hair.

Todd’s eyes, wide with surprise, skated from Lizzie to the phone in confusion.

Lizzie kneeled against the sofa, picked the phone up, and turned off the alarm she’d set right before she and Todd began making out. She was getting so good at doing it, fingers flying to set it before the kissing began, he never noticed. Smiling, she dipped her head and bunched her cascade of blond hair into a quick and dirty ponytail before standing up. She put her hand out to help Todd up from the floor.

His long body unfolded into a standing position where he towered a full foot over Lizzie.

“Dude, I hate your phone.” Todd shook his head, eyeing the phone with disdain. “It rings every time we…” He dropped down onto the sofa dramatically, pouting.

Lizzie pretended to check the missed call, even though there was none. “It’s Mina. JZ should be here any minute to get us,” she practically sang, giddy that once more, her fifteen-minute make-out alarm had done its job.

Todd ran his fingers through his unruly locks, gathering himself. He looked shell-shocked and Lizzie, almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

She felt (a little) bad for having to trick him, but she couldn’t trust herself anymore to untangle herself from the increasingly hot and heavy make-outs. At some point, they were going to stop working. Either Todd was going to throw her phone out the window—he was eyeing it now like he wanted to—or simply not let her jump up like someone had lit her pants on fire to check it.

She knew the day was coming. That’s why it was time for the virginity pact.

Satisfied with herself, she plopped down beside a silent and pouty Todd.

“I’m starved. You?”

“Yeah, but not for pizza,” Todd said, making googly eyes at her.

Lizzie planted a prim peck on his lips, allowing it to turn into a bit more before pulling away. Todd reached out to pull her back, but Lizzie was up in a flash, laughing as his hand swiped her tee shirt, catching only air.

He scowled, chiding her playfully. “Tease.”

“Sucker.” She sprinted clumsily as he chased her up the stairs.

The door bell rang as they reached the landing.

She hadn’t planned it, but the cavalry had arrived right on time anyway.

Who You Wit'?

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