Her soft confession has me stumbling over my words.
“Yeah? What, um, do you like about it?”
“Hmm.” She closes her eyes as she thinks, turning her face upward, her lips pursed. The pose of a woman waiting to be kissed.
Unable to stop myself, my eyes drop to her sweet mouth as I wonder what it would be like to press my own against hers. My heart skips, probably in just as much shock as I am by the tidal wave of desire from that one thought.
Never have I thought about kissing Reese Brooks before. But now that this tantalizing idea circles in my head, I’m confused why it’s never popped up before. She’s attractive, smart, and never one to back down from a challenge. Even when we’re arguing, her sense of humor makes me laugh, always catching me by surprise. We’re evenly matched, competitive, and...dang, I don’t want to think about it anymore—I just want to feel her mouth on mine.
I lick my parched lips, fighting the urge to lean closer.
One kiss wouldn’t hurt things . . .
But if I kissed her, the friendship I’ve been so desperate to fix might not survive the change. We’ve come so far in such a short amount of time. This could ruin everything.
Or maybe she’ll like it . . .
And what about Des? What would he think about me kissing his sister?Agh.If Reese didn’t murder me, he might. That could be another friendship down the drain.
No, I decide. As much as I want to... I shouldn’t.
She finally speaks, unaware of my internal battle. “It’s hard to pinpoint one thing. It’s more of how my body responds when I hear his voice. It’s like I know him—I’ve always known him. There’s a connection between us, and I... I just need to find him.”
What had started as a joke has now spiraled out of my control. Her admission steals my breath away. Reese feels a connection with me.With me.She doesn’t need to find him. I’m sitting right next to her. My eyes trail over her face, a slow, leisurely perusal, wishing it could be my fingers instead. I shift closer, my eyes locked on her lips.
“Trust me, I know how crazy it sounds—” Her eyes pop open and she jerks back into the window. “Personal space, much? If you want some of the trail mix, just ask.” Picking up the snack, she whacks it against my chest and pushes me away.
That’s not what I’m craving, but I take it anyway.
“So?” She practically bounces in her seat. “Did it sound familiar?”
“No.”
“Oh. I was sure?—”
“No.”
She shrugs and happily returns to her book.
Grumbling, I munch angrily, mashing each nut into dust as I wait for the last haze of attraction to fizzle. Of course it’s not gone completely.Nope.It’s like a tiger stalking its prey, waiting for the next opportunity to pounce.
I’m overjoyed when we are able to get off at the next stop, and I practically race from the bus, breathing in fresh air and enjoying a brisk walk around the parking lot to ease the tension in my chest. Hopefully, the five minutes of space will reset time to when everything was normal between us.
I’m not so lucky.
As soon as I plop down in my seat, I notice she’s applyinga layer of the new lip gloss she purchased at the gas station. Torn cardboard packaging remnants with cotton candy designs are sprinkled on her lap.
I swear God is testing me.
“What happened to you?” she demands. Shaking her head, she screws on the cap. “You took off without saying anything. I didn’t know where you were.”
“I didn’t know I was supposed to check in with you,” I bite back, my nerves still taut as before.
“Wow, someone is a cranky pants,” she mocks and tosses her new gloss in her bag.
“I’m tired. It’s after two in the morning.”
“Then take a nap. Don’t bite my head off for caring.”
