Eli had dreamed about Annie more times than he could count. He was pretty sure the only thing he had dreamed of more was winning a WDC title, and that was only because he’d had that dream for longer, ever since he was a kid. From the moment he’d first met Annabelle Baxter, when he was a fresh-faced rookie daring to dream that Michael would take him under his wing, he’d wanted to kiss her.
Now that he’d gotten the opportunity, he was certain he might die if he stopped.
Kissing Annie might have been the first time that Eli actually felt sure of himself, which seemed like an insane statement. Whenever he was around her, he couldn’t help but think that he came across as a bumbling idiot. Cute, in the way a younger sibling or pathetic looking dog was to her, but certainly not attractive. His confidence was used to taking a few knocks on a good day, so finally kissing the girl he’d been arse-over-teakettle for should have probably sent his sanity into a spin.
Instead, he fitted his hands against Annie’s waist and angled his head just right to deepen the kiss, suddenly sure that this might be the only thing he was destined to do in life. Forget getting behind the wheel of a glorified rocketship of a car, this was what Eli was made for.
“Oh my god,” he whispered faintly as they broke apart, heads still bowed close to each other. The thumping of the music around them felt far away, and Eli had to fight to remember where he was. Smack bang in the middle of A Novel Idea where anyone could see them.
Then Annie called him sexy.
“Oh my god,” he reiterated, letting himself be kissed again, even if he was making things difficult with the dopey grin on his face.
He heard her suggestion loud and clear, but his reaction was to revert back to his usual state of silent moron. Gone was the previously suave and confident version of Elias Hewitt who could apparently manage to pull himself together for long enough to kiss the girl he was halfway in love with on New Year’s Eve. In his place, was the usual, jittery version of Eli who was acting like he’d been promised sex for the first time ever in his life. Admittedly, it had been a while. Already, he knew he’d have to spend plenty of time tending to Annie’s needs first, lest he finish in three seconds flat. Hell, he was already close at the mere prospect, and Annie dragging him down for another kiss didn’t help matters.
“Mhm,” he mumbled against her lips, his grip on her tightening as he pulled her closer. “We should… yeah, we should definitely do that.”
At the risk of looking far too eager, in a way that might actually come across as more pathetic than endearing, he squinted against the flashing strobes of the disco lights and pushed his luck.
“Maybe… we could do that now?” he asked. They had just got here, he knew that, but there was something satisfying and insanely thrilling about the idea of making out with Annie in the back of a car. A car that Duncan was driving, mind you.
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