Meilin's POV
I never thought I could love someone this much.
Scratch that. I never thought I could be this much. This… clingy. This obsessed. This shamelessly attached.
But then again, I never thought I'd fall in love with Theo Ashford. The royal-level rich boy with tattoos on his neck, piercings that could kill, and a football kick that nearly broke my ribs once in P.E.
Now?
He's mine.
And I? I'm the human equivalent of superglue.
I sat next to him on the grass behind the political science building, pretending to revise torts but really just staring at the little mole on his jawline.
Theo was lying down beside me, one hand tucked behind his head, the other tracing lazy circles on my knee like he had nothing better to do than draw invisible constellations on my skin. His jersey was pushed up just slightly, and the tattoos on his stomach peeked out. I stared a little too long.
"You're drooling," he said without opening his eyes.
"I'm admiring," I corrected, placing my palm flat on his abs. "Big difference."
He chuckled, turning his face toward me. "You're lucky you're cute."
I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. "You're lucky I'm obsessed with you."
That got his eyes open.
He smirked, pulling me down gently until I was half on top of him. "You don't say."
"Oh, I do." I kissed him again. "Every second of every day, actually. In case you haven't noticed, I basically live on your body."
"You really do," he said with a sigh, but he wrapped his arms around me anyway, and that stupid little half-smile of his gave him away.
I nuzzled into his neck, the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint sweat from practice making my heart do somersaults. "I'm like a keychain."
"You're like a feral kitten in love."
"I'm your problem now."
"You've always been my problem," he murmured, eyes fluttering closed again. "And I'm not complaining."
He reached up and twirled a strand of my hair, now so long it brushed past my thighs when I walked. "I like your hair longer," he said.
"You told me to grow it."
"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually listen."
"I'd shave my head if you told me to," I said dramatically.
"Please don't," he said, laughing.
We stayed like that for a while—me squished against him, textbooks forgotten, my heart doing backflips every time he called me baby in that lazy drawl of his.
Then someone whispered loudly from behind a bush. I looked up and spotted a phone poking out.
"Oh no…"
I turned toward him. "We're going viral again, aren't we?"
"Probably," he said. "Better kiss me. Might as well give them something good to record."
And of course, I did.