Page 47 of Jump on Three

The room was contracting around us, shoving us closer and closer. Infinitesimal shifts of our feet. Trailing pressure along our spines. Ivan was no longer against the door but right in front of me. I had to tip my head back or be stuck looking at the buttons on his shirt.

“I suppose, but why me?” I pressed.

“Why not you?”

Frustrated with him, I stomped my foot. It felt so good I did it twice more. “Answering questions with more questions isn’t any way to have a conversation. Please explain why.”

His arm moved in slow motion, reaching out for me. It seemed to take forever for his skin to contact mine.

His knuckle grazed the underside of my jaw and trailed to my chin, nudging the round, stubborn part.

“You’re so polite and cute,” he said softly.

“Is that why?” I rubbed my lips together and took a breath. “Thank you.”

His knuckle slid from my chin to my ear, gently rubbing my lobe. Before I could stop myself, I tilted my head into his touch like a cat, desperate for more pets. Ivan obliged, trailing back and forth along my jaw.

“You were bossy. You made me laugh. You shared a playlist with me through text when you would not in real life. I did not want to break that connection,” he explained.

“But why?” I needed to understand. This boy had come from nowhere, and now, his attention was all on me. There had to be a reason for it. More than I’d made him laugh with my bossiness. More than our shared taste in music.

“I liked having an easy way to speak to you.”

“Why?” I whispered.

He stepped closer, the front of his uniform brushing mine. I was acutely aware of one of his buttons clinking with mine, of his trousers brushing my bare shins. The tips of his shoes hitting the tips of mine. The only time we’d been closer was when he’d rescued me from the pool. I hadn’t been aware of him then, not like this.

My chest rose and fell in rapid waves, our buttons clicking and clashing with each inhale. Ivan’s eyes were on my face. He didn’t even twitch each time the buttons pulled apart. Had he not noticed? How could he not have felt it?

He was touching my jaw, my earlobe, my hair. His senses were occupied with me, and all I could think about were those buttons.

Perhaps it was safer to get lost in that sensation than acknowledging how good those barely-there touches felt on my skin.

“Because, Evelyn, I have wanted to know more about you since I first saw you. If you let me, I’ll be able to give you a better answer. Right now, all I can say is I like talking to you, and I really like it when you speak to me.”

“Oh,” I breathed. “That’s a good reason.”

Several big, unexpected, overwhelming things happened at once.

The gentle touch on my jaw became firm, expanding to cup the side of my neck.

Ivan brought his other hand to my hip, pulling my body against his. Our buttons no longer clicked; they crashed.

His eyelids lowered to half-mast, but his focus never wavered from me.

It was intense. Heavy. I looked at the pointy tip of the swallow’s wing. It drew closer to me. How was it moving?

It wasn’t. That was Ivan moving, dropping his head so our lips were only inches apart. His warm breath grazed my chin and mouth. Mine was frozen in my lungs.

My knees were wobbly. The pulse in my neck was fluttering like a trapped butterfly. Head like a helium balloon. Stomach on a runaway roller coaster. I had no idea how much time had passed with his mouth poised over mine, but I was melting, not like a candle, like a nuclear reactor.

Until this moment, I’d thought Ivan was handsome. His voice was like cotton candy to my ears, a nebulous treat I’d forgotten I’d liked until I’d had it again and couldn’t get enough. This was more than an enjoyment of his external features, though.

This was…

Oh no.

“This must have been how Delilah had felt when she confessed…”