London Falling

by Chanel Cleeton

  Except with her.

  I took another sip from my drink, the whiskey burning a hole down my throat. Maggie grabbed her ball and walked up to bowl. I couldn’t stop staring at her legs, at her ass. She looked ridiculously hot in her orange shoes.

  That guy who was friends with George—Matt or something—walked up next to her. Right behind her. My eyes narrowed as she turned back and said something to him. He laughed.

  I didn’t like him. He was American and tall and built and looked like he should be working on a farm or something.

  He followed Maggie up to the bowling lane, positioning his body behind hers, showing her how to roll the ball. His hands gripped her hips, his arm moving with hers, mimicking the release. She wriggled her hips for a moment and I swear my heart stopped beating. He grinned at her, still not moving his motherfucking hands from her body, and I saw red.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Maggie

  “YES!”

  A perfect strike. I pumped my fist in the air, dancing in the lane. I grinned at Max, giving him a high five.

  “Thanks for the advice, partner.”

  “Happy to help.”

  I turned and my gaze traveled over the group before finally connecting with Samir. His gaze was fixed on me, his stare unblinking. There was something there—a heat that had the smile slowly slipping from my face.

  There were times when words seemed to fail us, when we communicated best without them. This was one of those times. I knew that look. It was the same look he’d given me that night. The same look I’d seen when he was inside of me. Whatever friend truce we’d agreed to disappeared with that look. I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t seen it, just like he couldn’t pretend that whatever was inside of him wasn’t pushing to get out.

  I needed air.

  I mumbled some excuse to Max and headed for the door, avoiding Samir’s gaze. I was afraid if I looked at him now, everything would change. I couldn’t keep pretending, but I wasn’t ready to share us with everyone. When it was secret—forbidden—it was safe. If it was a secret, I could tell myself it wasn’t real. That I wasn’t falling for him. That my heart wasn’t completely at risk. That maybe I hadn’t already lost it months ago.

  The second I pushed open the door and the cold air hit me, I sagged against the building, letting out a harsh breath. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t lose control like this. Not now. Not in front of everyone.

  We were just friends. I’d said so myself. He had a girlfriend. He’d already nearly broken my heart once. I couldn’t put myself through that again. He was a bad idea. A really, really bad idea.

  I heard the sound of footsteps, and suddenly the energy around me changed. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the urge to open them. Because suddenly I knew that when I did, he’d be right in front of me.

  I didn’t think we could be just friends anymore.

  Samir

  SOMEHOW I MANAGED to wait a full minute before going after her. Maybe two. But then I couldn’t wait anymore. She pulled me toward her, and I was done resisting.

  Seeing Max with her—

  I wasn’t jealous. I knew her. Knew what she wanted, knew the way she looked at me was different from the way she looked at everyone else. I was just angry with myself. Angry I’d put us in this situation, that things between us had gotten so bad. I didn’t want him touching her, didn’t want anyone touching her but me. I hated that she was just within my reach, but always unattainable, hated that she wasn’t mine.

  I stopped in front of her, taking a moment to look at her, really look at her, without feeling the pressure to pretend I didn’t feel what I felt. Her brown hair fell past her shoulders. Her skin was pale, a hint of color on her cheeks. Her lips were red. I ached to kiss them.

  I reached out, placing my palm against the brick wall behind her. She sighed. I leaned forward, our bodies close but not touching, her scent surrounding me.

  “Maggie.” I said her voice like a prayer. For what, I wasn’t sure. I wanted to beg her to release me from this hold she had over me, plead with her to let me kiss her.

  Her eyes flickered open. The desire I saw there made my mouth instantly go dry.

  I leaned forward slightly, my body just barely brushing hers. Her eyes widened. I rested my forehead against hers, our lips inches apart.

  And suddenly I had the courage to give voice to the thoughts that had been taunting me for months.

  “I still want you. I never stopped wanting you. I’m afraid I never will.” The last part escaped in a strangled whisper. I was done playing around, done denying myself the one thing I so desperately wanted. I was weak and I needed her. Nothing else mattered.

  I rocked forward, my body pushing hers against the wall. It felt good to be this close to her, to feel her body beneath mine. But I wanted more, always more with her. Nothing ever seemed to be enough.

  Maggie

  I WAS DROWNING in his voice and his words. With each word, my composure slipped some more. I wanted him. I’d never stopped wanting him. I’d wanted him for so long that I honestly didn’t remember what it was like to not want him. Hearing him say he felt the same way was impossible to ignore.

  My chin tilted up, our gazes locking, our lips so close that if I just leaned forward a bit, my mouth would graze his. What would it feel like to kiss him again? To give myself over to the pleasure of his lips and hands? To feel him hot and hard inside me, filling me, pushing into me until our bodies were one?

  Our breath mingled, lips hovering just an inch away from heaven. His body pressed against mine, his legs brushing against me—every inch of him was hard. It was enough to make me forget why this was a bad idea. It was enough to tempt me to want more, to give myself over to the pleasure I found only in his arms. It was enough to have me moving forward, putting my mouth on his.

  It had been four months since we’d kissed, and yet the second our mouths fused together something clicked into place. I opened my lips, and his tongue slid into my mouth. His hands grabbed my ass, pushing me back against the brick wall, and I found my nirvana. We kissed like we might never kiss again. His mouth plundered mine, his tongue possessed me, his teeth scraped my skin. He slid a thigh between my legs so I rode him, the friction between us sending a shock of heat through my body. He cupped my ass, pulling me harder against him, tearing his mouth from mine. He kissed his way down my neck, his hands moving up to brush against my breasts, seeking my nipples through my top. I moaned against his mouth.

  He pulled back, staring at me, his gaze full of promise and want. It took a moment for me to calm my breathing, to come back to earth.

  “Maggie.”

  Samir stiffened. I froze, the sound of my name breaking through the haze of lust and heat.

  Max stood behind Samir, staring at us, his eyes wide. “It’s your turn to bowl.”

  Heat flooded my face as sanity returned. We were all over each other on a crowded London street. Maybe Max didn’t know Samir had a girlfriend, but still. Nothing about this was a good idea.

  “Thanks,” I answered, my stare never breaking contact with Samir’s. There was so much I wanted to say to him. So much lingering between us. But as usual, I didn’t know how to even begin. “I should go back in.”

  “I can’t keep doing this,” Samir answered, his voice low. “There’s still too much that’s unresolved between us. We need to talk.”

  “I know.”

  He was right. The tension in the air was ridiculous. We’d been dancing around that night, but no matter how hard we tried to ignore it, it wasn’t going away and our world was too small for us to try to pretend like the other one didn’t exist.

  Samir pulled away from me with a frustrated sigh.

  “You should go in first. Mya’s already asked me questions about us. I can’t deal with anyone else finding out. Not now. Not yet.”

  He didn’t answer. For a moment I thought he was going to press the issue. But instead he just nodded and walked away.

  I sagged against the wall, st
ruggling to get my emotions under control. My heart raced, my nerves a live wire. Why was it that being around Samir always made me feel like I’d just jumped off a cliff?

  “Everything okay?” Max asked. “I didn’t mean to interrupt...” He flushed. “I didn’t realize you guys were together.”

  “We’re not. Please don’t tell anyone about this.”

  “I won’t.” He shook his head. “That guy’s a total douche. I’ll never understand what girls see in him.”

  “He’s not bad.” I didn’t expand. I felt silly trying to explain what Samir was like. “You just have to know him.”

  “He looked like he was ready to take my head off for talking to you. I wasn’t hitting on you with the bowling thing. Honestly. I was just trying to help.”

  “I know.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “Why do you hang out with all of them?” He gestured toward the bowling alley. “Do you ever get sick of the constant shallowness? I mean, Fleur doesn’t have one intelligent thought in her head. And Samir Khouri?”

  I could guess how we must all look to Max. He ran with a completely different crowd—honestly, besides George, I wasn’t even sure he had friends. Fleur and Samir had a reputation. It just wasn’t the whole story.

  “Fleur’s one of my best friends, and I promise you, she’s a lot more than people give her credit for.”

  He didn’t look convinced. “She’s going to crush George’s heart. He’s a good guy. He doesn’t need a girl like Fleur screwing around with him just because she’s bored. He said you guys were friends. Can you honestly tell me he’s not going to get hurt?”

  I sighed, some of my annoyance softening. I understood wanting to fight for the people you loved.

  “I don’t know. I can’t even begin to predict how their relationship is going to play out, but neither can you. That girl, the one you seem to think is some heartless man-eater, just spent last year getting her heart crushed by a guy who wasn’t good enough for her by half. I don’t know if George is the guy for Fleur or not, but I know she’s trying. What more can she do?”

  As much as I loved Fleur, I’d be lying if didn’t admit I was a little worried for George, too. But I hated that people always assumed the worst about her and I hated that she didn’t try to change that perception.

  If I’d learned anything at the International School, it was that appearances were deceiving.

  Samir

  “WHERE’S MAGGIE?”

  “No idea.”

  Mya shot me a look that left no doubt that she didn’t believe anything I said. For some reason, she always made me a little nervous. Fleur was usually too self-involved to pay attention to other people, and Maggie calling me on my bullshit was nothing new. But Mya looked at me like she knew I wasn’t all I was cracked up to be. And Maggie was right; Mya was definitely starting to notice things were different.

  Mya smirked. “Maybe she’s with Max. They’d make a cute couple, right?”

  “Sure.” I struggled to keep a pleasant expression on my face.

  “They’re both American,” Mya continued. “He’s really smart. Nice. Quiet, too. Shy. Kind of like Maggie. If you think about it, they’re really perfect for each other.”

  Is she really trying to needle me? What had happened to my rep? People used to be afraid of me—reluctant even talk to me. Thanks to Maggie, I had somehow become approachable. Hell, Mya was even giving me shit.

  “I doubt that.” I should have ended the conversation there. But today seemed to be my day for not doing what I should. “Maggie’s not shy,” I continued. She was the furthest thing from shy. She just wasn’t in-your-face flashy, so people tended to overlook her. Which was stupid. Especially when I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

  “She’s funny and not afraid to call you out on your shit when need be. She’s strong. And even though she doesn’t know it, she’s confident. She knows who she is and she owns it. She doesn’t apologize for herself or shirk away from standing up for what’s right. She takes chances all the time. She’s tough. Don’t underestimate her.”

  Mya gaped at me. Her gaze drifted to a point over my shoulder. I turned. Maggie stood behind me, a dazed expression on her face.

  For a moment, neither one of us spoke. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. No small measure of embarrassment. A fierce sense of protectiveness that was new and beyond uncomfortable. I hated when people talked about Maggie as if she were some delicate flower. She was the strongest person I knew, and I was sick of people underestimating her.

  “I guess I was wrong,” Mya said, before she turned and walked away. She might as well have disappeared. Everything for me was Maggie.

  I struggled to speak, but once again the words wouldn’t come. I blamed the languages swirling in my head rather than the girl standing in front of me.

  “Thanks for that.” Maggie’s lips curved into a heartbreakingly gorgeous smile. “You made me sound quite fierce.”

  Her smile deepened, and I was dazzled.

  Again, I grasped for words and none came. English had never been hard for me. I’d been speaking it long enough that I rarely found myself at a loss for words. But sometimes, when I was tired or my emotions were high, I found myself speaking and thinking in French or Arabic.

  I had a ton of words for her now—words in French, phrases in Arabic—things I’d never said before. Things I’d never wanted to say before.

  Those words scared the shit out of me. I’d never been here before, and I felt unmistakably out of my league.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Maggie

  LITTLE BY LITTLE, I started to relax around Samir. It was weird. Something had shifted between us outside the bowling alley—that kiss changed everything. Any doubts I’d had about what he wanted from me had been instantly erased. He wanted me just as much as I wanted him. I just wished I knew what happened next.

  “So is it just me, or is watching them together the most awkward thing ever?” Samir whispered in my ear, his breath teasing the back of my neck. He’d been joking with me, teasing me, all evening long.

  My gaze drifted to where Fleur walked next to George. “They’re fine. Stop giving them a hard time.”

  Samir snorted. “He blushes like a girl.”

  “He does not blush like a girl,” I protested, biting back laughter. George did look a bit red. “He’s British. He’s pale. It’s not his fault.”

  Samir just shook his head. “I hate to say it, but you just might be the worst matchmaker ever.”

  I elbowed him. “We’ll see.”

  “Care to make a wager?” Samir murmured, his lips grazing my skin.

  I instantly flashed back to our card game in Paris over spring break last year... that wager had ended with me stripping naked before him.

  “Remembering?”

  I flushed. We were walking way too close to each other, his body nearly touching mine. It was hard to think when he was this close to me. Hard to focus on all the reasons why we couldn’t be together, when all I cared about was how much I wanted to be with him.

  Subtlety seemed to have gone out the window. Our friends were up ahead, deep in conversation, but still. Here we were, on display for everyone to see.

  “Move away.”

  “No. I like it here. I like having you close, being able to smell your perfume, the scent of your shampoo. Vanilla?”

  I flushed. It totally was. The husky tone of his voice sent a shiver down my spine.

  “You smell good enough to eat.”

  “You’re such a weirdo.” My lips twitched. “Try to refrain.”

  “What if I don’t want to?” Samir teased. “You know how bad I am with delayed gratification. Or maybe I’m just very, very good.”

  “Stop it,” I hissed, trying desperately to ignore the flush of arousal that ran through my body. I was so turned on—I had been all night—that all it would take was him touching me for my not-so-firmly held restraint to go out the window.

  “I’m not doing anything.” S
amir lowered his voice. “Yet. But I’m thinking of doing a lot. I’m wondering if I touched you right now, if I slipped my fingers inside of you, would you be wet?”

  Heat flooded my body.

  So much for friends. So much for everything.

  “I thought we were going to be good.”

  “Fuck being good.”

  Samir

  WE WALKED BACK to the dorms, everyone talking and laughing. I walked next to Maggie, purposely letting my hand graze hers. Her breath caught for a moment. I waited, all of my concentration focused on the point where our flesh met. Everything seemed to hinge on this moment—whether she’d pull back or keep her hand there. I’d shocked her earlier with my honesty. Now I could see her playing the same game she so frequently did—hovering between desire and caution. But she didn’t move away. Something—relief, triumph, possibility?—filled me. Heart pounding, I moved my hand just an inch. I squeezed her hand, wrapping my fingers around hers. She squeezed back, her fingers grasping mine like she never wanted to let go.

  “Do you guys want to watch a movie or something?” Fleur called out.

  It took me a minute to realize she was talking to us. Another moment before I realized that all it would take was Fleur turning around to see Maggie’s hand clutched in mine. I didn’t let go.

  “No.”

  “Yes,” Maggie answered simultaneously, yanking her hand out of mine, leaving me reaching for thin air.

  Fleur turned around, staring at us.

  Maggie moved away from me, putting even more distance between us. “A movie sounds great.”

  I groaned. Watching a movie with a room full of people was the last thing I wanted to do.

  “I’m in,” Mya answered from up ahead.

  Awesome.

  “Sounds good,” George agreed. “You in, Max?” Max nodded.

  Maggie shot me an innocent look. “Doesn’t a movie sound like fun?”