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The Problem with Forever

Book by Jennifer L. Armentrout · 10 quotes · Mallory Dodge, Rider Stark, Intimate

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The Problem with Forever Quotes

“I’m glad...you texted.” Rider tilted his head to the side. “Yeah?” I nodded, probably a little too eagerly, but as the dimple in his right cheek took shape, it was like being rewarded. Our eyes met for a moment, and I didn’t want him to leave. An urge took me like it had during lunch, and I all but bounced forward. Gripping his arms, I stretched up and kissed his cheek. It was pretty much just a peck, so I figured it wasn’t crossing any lines, but the feel of his skin under my lips was still unnerving and unexpected. “Be careful,” I whispered, backing off. Rider’s grin faded from his handsome face. A moment passed before he spoke. “Always, Mouse.”

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“The drawings make you smile,” he replied with a grin. “Working on the speech doesn’t do anything.” That...that was so sweet, I wanted to hug him tight, kiss him, too. “Working on your speech will make me smile, too.” His brows lifted and then he flipped his notebook closed. “I know what else will make you smile.” “What? You actually doing some homework?” “Nope.” He glanced at the door again and then rose. “I think me sitting closer to you will make you smile.” The boy knew me well. He took a step closer. “I think holding your hand will make you smile.” I straightened as I watched him. “And I think...” He sat on the edge of the bed and twisted his body toward mine. “I think kissing you will make you smile, too.”

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“Embarrassment flooded me, but Rider was grinning as he scooted closer and tugged me over. Before I knew what he was doing, he’d tucked my hips between his thighs and circled his arms around me, holding me tight to his chest. His really hard chest. The contact jolted me, like touching a live wire. It took a couple of seconds for me to relax. He was silent as he rested his chin on the top of my head, and I didn’t say anything as I squeezed my eyes shut against the rising tide of emotion. Being this close to him again was something so powerful the connection was tangible, a third entity. One hand drifted up my back, a slow slide under the weight of my hair. He curled his fingers around the nape of my neck. His chin moved, grazing my forehead, and the intimacy of the act was so different than any of the other times he’d been this close. An odd warmth settled in my muscles. Like stepping out into the sun for the first time after a long winter. There was a moment when I wasn’t sure if he breathed, because I didn’t feel his chest move under my hands. In the back of my head, I wondered how...how okay this was. I didn’t want to pull away and break the connection, but I thought that maybe I should. This was innocent. It had to be, but it was also different.”

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“You...you always made everything sound like it’s not a big deal. You’re doing that now.” His lips continued to curve on the right and the dimple appeared. Then he sighed and scooted forward, spreading his legs. His hands suddenly landed on my hips, and I almost dropped the cotton ball at the unexpected contact. My breath caught as he lowered me so I was sitting on the edge of the coffee table and he kept moving forward, the inside of his legs sliding against the outside of mine. The rough material of his jeans touching my bare skin sent a raw, drenching rush of sensation through my veins. “That better?” he asked, peering at me through lowered lashes. I blinked, having no idea what he was talking about, and then I realized that seated like this, it was easier to reach him. His hands dropped from my hips to rest on his thighs, and they were oh so close to mine.”

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“Before I could protest, which wouldn’t be wise even though I did want him to hang out longer, he placed his hands on my cheeks. My breath stalled out somewhere between my throat and chest. Leaning in, he pressed his lips against my forehead, dropping a kiss that squeezed my heart into slush. My eyes drifted shut as his lips lingered against my skin. Knocked off-kilter, I didn’t move when he pulled back and stood.”

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“Rider made this sound in the back of his throat. It was deep and masculine, part groan and growl, and it made me shiver. He folded one hand along my cheek and lowered his head to mine, but he didn’t kiss me. No. His warm breath glided over my forehead as his hand slid across my cheek, his fingers spreading into my hair at the base. His other hand landed low on my back, and the weight did insane things to my insides. He drew it up my back, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. My eyes fluttered shut as his lips brushed over the curve of my cheek. It was the craziest torture. My entire body tensed, prepared for the moment when his lips met mine. And it was the sweetest pressure, a feather-light brush of his lips over mine. Once. Then twice. I felt the touch everywhere, a jolt to the system that zipped through my veins, and then the pressure increased. Rider kissed me then. It was a real one, soft and beautiful, and when the kiss deepened, it wasn’t a shy one. He knew what he was doing, and even though I didn’t, an innate knowledge told me it didn’t matter. His lips mapped out mine, and my insides were in tight coils. Kissing was awesome. Amazing. Astonishing. I could probably think of a couple of more words to describe it. Kissing blew me away, and when he lifted his mouth, both of us were breathing hard. He rested his forehead against mine. Neither of us spoke for several moments. I still wasn’t thinking. I had no idea how my hands had gotten to Rider’s chest, but his heart pounded under my palm as fast as mine did. My mind was blissfully blank as I breathed in his scent, a mix of his citrusy cologne and the faint trace of paint. “Did you like that?” he asked, dragging his fingers out of my hair and over the line of my jaw. Screaming yes, oh, God, yes, would’ve probably been a little too excessive, so I managed a somewhat subdued, “Yes.” As Rider grinned, his lips brushed mine. “Good. Because I really liked it.”

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“Dropping his arm from my shoulders, he reached down and folded his hand around mine. It wasn’t the first time he’d held my hand, but there was an intimacy there that hadn’t been present before. A tight shiver curled its way down my spine as his thumb moved along my palm while we walked down to class. He had not done that before. Rider let go of my hand when we entered speech, and I stepped in front of him, walking toward my seat. I dropped my bag on the floor and started to sit when Rider swooped down, kissing my cheek once more. I flushed as I glanced over at him. He grinned as he sat. “Couldn’t help myself. Your cheek looked like it was missing my kiss.”

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“He placed our stuff on the table and then sat, straddling the bench. Patting the spot next to him, he grinned. I dropped my bag on the tan pavers and as I swung a leg over the bench, I stopped to look at him. He was watching me through thick lashes, head still tilted, grinning so that lone dimple was begging to be touched. I realized that this was the first moment Rider and I had been alone. No prying eyes. No adults watching over us. No one walking past us as there had been in the parking lot yesterday. We were alone, just him and me, like it had been so many times in the past. I don’t know why I did what I did next, but a decade of emotion swirled up inside me. Maybe it had to do with everything he’d done for me in the past. Maybe it was just because he was sitting right there and we were in the present. And I never felt more present than I did in that moment. Bending over, I wrapped my arms around his wide shoulders and I squeezed him. Probably the lamest hug in history, but it felt good. It felt magnificent when he rose up a little and circled his arms around my waist. His hug was better. When I pulled back, his hands slid off my waist, to my hips, and lingered for a moment. A strange sensation curled low in my stomach. He let go, but the heated awareness remained. “What was that for?” Shrugging, I sat, tucking both legs under the table. My face was hot. “I...I just wanted to.” “Well, you can do that whenever you want to. I don’t mind.”

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“His gaze locked with mine and a slow grin appeared on his face. He didn’t look like he had last night. More like he did every day at school. Worn jeans. A black henley instead of a T-shirt and beat-up sneakers, but goodness, I couldn’t think. Okay. Not true. I could think, but I was thinking things I really had no concept of. I was thinking about those full, slightly curved lips and how they must feel in places...other than my forehead or cheek. I was thinking about his hands and how strong they were and the oddly pleasant calluses on his palms. I was thinking about...about a lot of things—things that now didn’t feel so wrong since he was actually single. Noticing my near-prone position, Ainsley looked over her shoulder. “Oh, my good God almighty,” she murmured. “That’s him?” “Yes,” I whispered. That was so him.”

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