A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime: A Lancaster Prep Novel

SHE WALKS by my side as we head to the library, our pace fast since it just started to snow. More like a freezing rain, which means it’s still cold as fuck, and stings too. At least snow is soft, most of the time.

“Come on,” I tell her, putting my hand at the center of her back and pushing her to pick up the pace. We run the rest of the way, both of us stopping once we’re standing under the overhang in front of the library, Wren brushing the top of her head with her hand, water droplets flying.

“It’s freezing,” she says through chattering teeth, and I don’t even hesitate.

Taking her hand, I pull her into the library, the warmth from inside instantly thawing me out.

“Better?” I ask her.

“Yes.” She drops her hand and glances around the room. It’s one of the original buildings on campus, and it has that musty smell of old books lingering in the air. The ceiling soars high, the shelves tall and filled with so many books it would take someone years to read them all.

There’s hardly anyone in here, and I’m thinking the weather is a deterrent. I never come to the library. I can probably count on one hand the times I’ve been here since I started at Lancaster Prep. Well, maybe two.

“Let’s go to the back,” I suggest.

She frowns. “Why?”

“So we can have privacy.”

“Why do we need privacy?”

“We’re talking about some personal stuff, Birdy. You want everyone to find out about your deepest, darkest secrets?”

Her expression turns stricken. “No. But that means I don’t want them blabbed during our presentation either.”

“We’ll keep it surface-level. Don’t worry. Come on.” I flick my head in the direction I want to go and start walking. She falls into step beside me. “You come here a lot?”

“Not really. I used to more when I was younger. I’d hang out in here with my friends and Miss Taylor would get mad at us,” she says, referring to the librarian. “She’d always shush us.”

“She’s older than dirt. I think she’s been here for two hundred years.”

“Maybe she’s a zombie,” Wren suggests.

“More like a vampire,” I joke. “Living her best eternal life.”

Wren smiles, and I wish I could see her do that more often. She’s been so somber, so sad the last few days. Ever since her parents unloaded on her that they’re getting a divorce.

I think of my own parents and the fucked-up relationship they’re in. Dad’s a dick who flaunts his affairs and I’m pretty sure Mom does too. This is why I never want to be in a relationship. They’re messy. Unnecessary. Eventually, I’ll probably have to get married and carry on the family lineage or what the fuck ever, but maybe I won’t have to. Maybe my brothers will take care of that for me.

My oldest brother Grant is involved with someone, and it seems pretty serious, pretty fast. Finn is a total player, so he’s not settling down anytime soon. Charlotte just got married to someone she barely knows, but that dude is cool.

I’m barely eighteen. Definitely not interested in anything like that.

But I am interested in getting Wren alone again. Wouldn’t mind trying to kiss her again too, though I’m not sure if she’d be down. She’s wound so tight lately. I want her to act like she did last Saturday, when she was open and smiling, full of joy as she shared her love of art with me. Our conversation flowed, to the point of her admitting some major stuff I still can’t believe she shared with me. Fingering herself in her bedroom all night and watching porn—not very Wren-like behavior at all.

Just remembering her softly-spoken confessions makes my dick twitch.

We eventually find an empty round table in the very back of the library and I go to it, settling into a chair and pulling out the one next to me for Wren. She sits down, setting her backpack on the table, her movements slow. Measured.

“Did you really bring me back here to work on the project?” She shrugs out of her coat, settling it over the back of her chair. Watching me with those big green eyes, her lips slightly pursed in a sexy pout.

Wait a minute.

“Yeah,” I tell her, taking my coat off, leaving it slumped behind me. “You told me you just wanted to keep it friends-only between us.”

“Right.” She tears her gaze away from mine, staring at the shelf closest to us, a sigh leaving her. “I’m so tired of feeling sad.”

“You need to take your mind off of it.” When she turns to look at me, I continue, “Your parents. Your family. You need a distraction. You said that yourself earlier, in class.”

“I’m not going to smoke a joint with you or eat an edible,” she says, her tone snotty.

Fuck, that snotty tone of hers is kind of hot.

“I wasn’t going to suggest it. Besides, I don’t have anything on me. That’s against school rules, remember?” I raise my brows, recalling how she caught us passing that blunt during lunch. Something we do occasionally and always on the sly.

I told Ez and Malcolm we need to stop smoking on campus out in the open and they agreed. None of us want to get kicked out, not this late in our high school lives.

“Right. Don’t want to break the rules,” she murmurs.

“You never do,” I point out, and she doesn’t answer. Guess there’s no need for it, since we know it’s true. “Want to break some right now?”

“What are you talking about?” she asks warily.

“Come with me.” I stand, holding my hand out to her.

She studies it for a moment before lifting her gaze to mine. “What are you up to, Crew?”

“Come with me, Wren, and I’ll show you.”

“What about our stuff?”

“We can leave it. No one’s going to come back here and mess with it.”

She hesitates for a moment before she settles her hand in mine and I curl my fingers around it, pulling her out of the chair. There’s no one around and the only person I’d worry about catching us is old Miss Taylor, but she’s overseeing everyone at her desk at the library entrance, so she won’t notice.

My steps hurried, I lead Wren deeper into the stacks, until we’re surrounded by nothing but row after row of books, the aisle becoming narrower. The stacks becoming taller, the lights dimmer. Until we’re standing in front of a nondescript wooden door, a shiny new digital lock sitting above the handle. I let go of her hand and enter the code, the green light flashing, and I turn the handle, opening the door with ease.

I glance back at her to see her mouth drop open in surprise. “Where does that lead?”

“Come with me and you’ll find out.”

“I don’t know.” She glances over her shoulder, as if fully expecting the dragon lady Miss Taylor herself to be standing there, breathing fire. “What if someone catches us?”

“No one is going to catch us,” I say with confidence.

She faces me once more, her gaze going to the open doorway. There’s nothing but darkness. “It’s not dangerous in there, is it?”

The only thing that might be dangerous to her is me, but I don’t say that. “Not at all.”

Wren walks through the doorway first and I follow behind her, pulling the door shut, all the light from the library disappearing completely, shrouding us in darkness. She gasps and I come up behind her, settling my hands on her slender shoulders.

“It’s okay.”

“I can’t see.”

“I’ll guide you.” I take her hand and pull her along, my vision clearing the longer we’re in the dark. I lead her toward the spot I want to show her, the room growing even lighter until we’re standing in front of a wall of windows that overlooks the entire garden that’s behind the library. “What do you think?”

She approaches the old windows slowly, tilting her head back, her gaze lifting to the ceiling. “They’re so tall.”

“A long time ago, this used to be a classroom. They closed it down in the eighties. Then it eventually became a hookup spot. They finally had to put a lock on it a few years ago to keep the students out. Too many people were sneaking in here,” I explain.

Wren does a slow circle, glancing about the mostly empty room, her nose wrinkling. “Where would they hook up?”

“Wherever. If you’re desperate enough to sneak off with someone, you can get pretty creative.” Shit, I’m suddenly feeling desperate to hook up with my so-called friend.

Such a bunch of shit. I don’t know why we’re dancing around this. Pretty sure she wants me.

And I definitely want her.

“I’ve never really noticed these windows before,” she says as she approaches them. I follow after her, stopping a few feet away from where she stands when she presses her fingers against the glass and stares out at the grounds of the school spread out before us.

“You have.” When she glances back at me, I continue, “It’s the big wall of windows you can see from the gardens. Ivy covers most of the building itself, so no one ever realizes it’s part of the library.”

“Oh yeah.” She returns her attention to the gardens, the gentle snowflakes falling onto the ground, slowly dusting everything in white. “I don’t come out to the gardens much. The statues creep me out.”

“Really?”

She keeps her gaze straight ahead, not even noticing that I’m getting closer. “Feels like they’re always watching me. It’s creepy.”

“I figured you’d like them. They’re art. From hundreds of years ago.” I stop directly behind her, inhaling her scent. Tempted to reach out and grab her hair. Curl it around my fist and pull her in for a drugging kiss.

“You’re right. They are art, but they’re also sad. Those statues all look like they want to fling themselves over a cliff and die a horrible death.”

A chuckle leaves me, yet she still doesn’t move. She has to know I’m right behind her. “That’s the Lancaster family for you. We’re all this close to flinging ourselves off of a building, eager to plunge to a blissful death.”

“You Lancasters are moody.” Wren rests her hand on the glass, a hiss leaving her when she touches it. “It’s so cold.”

“It’s even colder outside.”

“I’m not dressed right to go back out into that.”

“Me either.” I take another step forward, so close my front presses gently against her back. “The view’s pretty, don’t you think?”

I’m not talking about the gardens, though they’re exactly that, especially with the snow falling. A perfect early winter scene.

No, I’m talking about Wren. She’s so fucking beautiful. Sweet. Interesting. It sort of blows my mind, how much I enjoy talking to her. Spending time with her.

“It is,” she admits, her voice soft. She bends her head forward, her hair falling across her face, and I reach out, brushing it aside to expose her neck. “What are you doing?”

“Distracting you,” I whisper, bending down to press my mouth on the back of her neck. “I know you appreciate pretty things. I wanted to show you a view you’ve never seen before.”

She’s quiet, though I can feel her body trembling. And I don’t think it’s from the cold windows either.

I kiss her in the same spot again, my fingers tangling in her hair. She lifts her other hand, both of them now braced on the glass, and I subtly nudge her body with mine, until she’s fully pressed against it.

And me.

She inhales sharply.

“Too cold?” I ask her, the words murmured on her skin.

“Yes,” she whispers. “But you’re warm.”

Resting one hand on her waist, I touch her cheek with the other, angling her head so she has no choice but to look up at me. “Don’t push me away, Birdy.”

I see the moment she gives in, how it flickers in her gaze, and she removes her hands from the window, turning so she’s fully facing me. “Crew…”

I kiss her before she can protest, or tell me to stop. And she doesn’t say anything after that. She gives in completely, her hands coming up to wind around my neck, her entire body leaning into me. Those plump tits press into my chest, and I race my hand up her side, my thumb drifting across her breast. She parts her lips to gasp, allowing my tongue entry, and a low groan leaves me as I deepen the kiss.

“What if someone sees us?” she whispers against my mouth.

I nip at her lower lip, making her whimper. “No one can see us. I promise.”

Opening my eyes, I stare out the windows, but there’s no one there. The snow is starting to come down harder, the light dimming in the cavernous room, thanks to the darkening sky, and I cup her cheek, tilting her head back, so I can devour her.

Our kisses soon turn into tongues and teeth and nibbling lips and panting breaths. Her hands slip beneath my uniform jacket, sliding down my back, and I press my hips against hers, letting her feel what she’s doing to me.

Wren breaks the kiss first, and I open my eyes to find her staring at me, her chest rising and falling against mine, her breaths quick. “We probably shouldn’t do this.”

“Why not?” I kiss her neck, licking a path to her ear with my tongue. She tilts her head, her eyes falling shut, her expression tortured. “I know you like it, Birdy.”

“Kissing leads to…other things. Things I’m not ready for.”

“You so sure about that?”

She swallows hard when I nibble her jaw. “I don’t know.”

“Tell me when to stop then.” Ah, I make it sound so easy, but I want this girl to forget herself and get carried away.

With me.

Because she needs it. Because she wants it.

Just like I want her.