“Stop,” I warn.
He pulls back and his hand cups my cheek. With soft eyes, he runs thumb across my bottom lip. “Can I kiss you here?”
Yes.“No.”
“No?”
“Yes.”
“So yes?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Christian whispers, somehow moving closer to me and standing between my legs. “And if I say please?”
I release a shaky breath. “Maybe.”
“Can I kiss you?” Christian asks. “Please.”
My eyes flit to his full, perfect lips, and I wet my bottom lip before biting into it. I dip my chin and both of his hands are holding my face. His nose bumps mine, his breath tickling my lips—so close, yet so far away.
“Are you going to kiss me or not?” I whisper.
“Don’t rush me,” he whispers. “This is for me.”
I huff a small laugh, my hands fisting his shirt at his waist. Then I hear the way his breath hitches and I can feel his heart hammering even at his sides, a slight tremble in his arms and hands too. “Christian?”
“Yeah,” he breathes against my lips.
“Are you nervous?”
Unconvincingly, he says, “N-no.” He clears his throat. “No, I…”
“Christian?”
“Yeah,” he breathes, sounding relieved and putting his forehead down on mine.
“What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. Nothing, I—I’m fine.”
“Christian—”
“I don’t know.”
“Christian,” I breathe. “This isn’t about a kiss, is it?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Christian, it’s okay,” I whisper and wrap my arms and legs around him. “Hey, its fine, it’s just a ki?—”
“I, um—” He releases my face and breaks out of my hold, taking a few staggering steps back. “I’m…going to go to the gym.”
“Christian—”Don’t do this.
The guest room door slams shut and I blink, startled by the sound. I sigh heavily, defeated. I finish my breakfast and five minutes later, Christian emerges from the room, dressed in his gym clothes with the bag on his shoulder. “I’ll see you later, baby,” he murmurs, his eyes averted low and away from me. He’s ashamed. “Have a good day.”
“You too, Chri?—”
