Gemma’s laughter crowds the small elevator. “No, no, I’m laughing because it does the same thing to my dad,” she tells me.
“Really?” I ask, delighted that she’s talking about her family.
“Yeah. We could never do overnight travel because coffee would just knock him out.”
“Oh no,” I say when we’re in the lobby. “It doesn’t do that to you, though?”
She shakes her head. “Thankfully not. You are lucky today, though.”
We reach her SUV then, and she opens the door for me.
“Why’s that?” I ask.
“I came prepared with snacks.”
She closes the door, still staring at me with that same smile, and I let out another heavy breath.
For five minutes, I didn’t think about anything other than her.
For five minutes, I got to be myself.
Gemma gets into the driver’s seat then, and as she’s clicking her seatbelt, I lean across the console and kiss her cheek.
Her brows narrow my way. “What was that for?” she asks.
“For making my brain all hazy. And I really,reallyneed hazy this morning.”
I swear her chest stops moving, her gaze darts to my lips. The way she’s staring…
“Come here,” she says, and my heart leaps into my throat.
Because when she leans across the console… when she pulls my face to hers… every inch of my body ignites. I feel like a human firecracker, and her lips landing upon mine are lighting the fuse.
Fuckinghell.
My shoulders droop. I brace one hand on her cheek, the other on the console, steadying myself so that I don’t melt into this seat and end up on the floorboard. The soft way she’s kissingme… it’s like she needed this as much as me. I nearly groan when her tongue slips between her parted lips and meets mine.
My mind is blank to everything except her.
This feels so fucking good. It scratches every desperate inch of my mind and aching body.
And when we part, I’m baffled entirely.
Her eyes drift over my face, lingering on my temple, my hair, my jaw, my lips… She strokes my cheek with the tips of her short nails, and I’m still trying to figure out what the hell just happened when she eventually speaks.
“How was that?” she asks softly. “Good fuzzies?”
“All the fucking fuzzies,” I breathe.
I’m dumbfounded as she sits back in the seat, puts the SUV into drive, and then pulls away from the curb as if that kiss was only a distraction from my own mental suicide.
Holy shit.
“What?” Gemma asks, and I swear there’s a smile daring to curl her lips when I look over at her.
“Ah… I…. Music—” I all but lunge for the radio dial and turn the volume up as fire invades the back of my mind.
Because the last time I was kissed across a console like that, it didn’t end very well.
