I lean towards her and whisper back. “You’re beautiful.” I nibble her earlobe as she playfully swats my arm. “Now make me beautiful, please.”
Lucy kneels down in front of me with the brush in her hand as I sit on the closed toilet seat. “Close your eyes,” she whispers.
I do as she says.
The coolness of the brush seeps into my heated face as she works to conceal the bruises around my eyes. Within moments, though it feels like a lifetime of her fingers brushing across my skin, she says she is finished.
She’s still knelt down in front of me with doe eyes and a satisfied smile, and I can’t resist the longing racing through my veins at the new memories made only half an hour ago. I reach out and cup her face, drawing her lips to mine. She bends to my will easily, her mouth moving in tandem with me. The fiery passion from beforeis tamed this go around, but it’s replaced with something sweet and enthralling.
“Stone,” she says in between breaths. “What are we doing?”
“I believe we are making out. What would you call this, Miss Romance Writer?”
She spurts a laugh. “This is fake. It’s all fake.” She repeats the phrase a few more times as if to convince herself of its validity.
“We can say this was a practice round for when some drunk relative decides they’d like to see us kiss. Sound good? Nothing more attached to this moment.”
Now I’m trying to convince myself that I didn’t just have two of the most outstanding kisses of my life. Kisses that scientists would marvel at if they caught wind of the new discoveries I’ve made in the confines of my mom’s house.
She nods her head, though she doesn’t hide her frown.
Does she want this to be something? Surely not. She was adamant beforehand. And I—
“What happens in Dasher Valley stays in Dasher Valley, right?”
It’s my turn to laugh even though I can’t hide the traces of disgust at myself sinking in at the worry in her voice. “Again. We will call it practice. This will not happen again if you don’t want it to, okay?” My stomach drops at the thought of her lips nevermore meeting mine, of never putting my hands on her body again, but I press on. “We practiced well. Very well. No one will doubt our relationship now because we will deliver upon the best PDA kiss the world has ever seen.”
She laughs, her frown transitioning to a pleasant smile. I smile, too, hoping hers is genuine. So many emotions linger beneath thesurface right now. I’m not sure I could tell which way is up and which way is down.
“Lucy, I do have one question before we put this behind us.”
She swallows, pushing her bangs out of her eyes. “Yes?”
“All this time you’ve been adamant about not dating me when I’ve flirted with you at work. You’ve acted like I repulsed you, and you wanted nothing to do with me. Can you be honest with me? Do you like me?”
Her eyes cut down as she fiddles with a silver ring on her left thumb. “I’ve always found you attractive, yes. And I see so much good in you. But I know you cycle through women faster than I write stories, and it wouldn’t be wise of me to even attempt to go there with you.”
I nod in understanding, my heart faltering over the feeling of taking advantage of her physical attraction to me. I’ve got to be more in control of myself…
Closing my eyes and releasing a breath, I take a moment to steady myself. Then I open my eyes and say, “I can’t commit, so you are wise to set that boundary. I’m sorry I kissed you… among other things.”
“It’s okay. Truly. At least I know what it’s like to be kissed by you. Among other things…” she teases.
“And what’s it like?”
Lucy laughs with a swift shake of her head. “For book research purposes, I’ll just say it was explosive.”
Holding my tongue from speaking of the strange visions from yesterday that involved explosions, I nod and flash her a flirty grin. “That it was.” I’ll work through all these weird feelingsand guilt later while I’m in bed. Alone. Without her entrancing presence. “Let’s finish getting ready for this wedding. Thanks for covering up my raccoon eyes.”
Chapter 7
Stone
How does she have my heart constricted after six years? She’s married, for crying out loud. I know I don’t love her, so why do I still get myself in rut over Lacey Fraiser? Or LaceyHopper,I should say. Why do I allow her to act like a dementor and suck my soul out of my body whenever I see her?
“Stone, your jealousy is showing. Better look at me before people think you’re gunning after another man’s wife.” Lucy squeezes my arm with a little too much force, and I snap my attention to her. She flinches, and I take a breath, softening my features. No need to let my suddenly soulless existence impact her.
Enough with the dramatics, dude. You’ve read one too many of Lucy’s romance books.
