He blinks, clearly taken aback.
I laugh, but not for long.
He darts out a hand, grabs my wrist and holds it tight. “Did you just fling frosting at me?”
It’s that stern, bossy tone he used with Ronnie, and I shiver. I like the tone as much as I like the possessive way he grips my wrist.
I bob a shoulder and answer, “You said you liked cake.”
“Did you think that meant on my face?”
“Better than on your pretty suit. I know how important the pre-game photos are.”
“So I should be glad you didn’t throw cake on my shirt?”
“I mean, it’s a good test of your devotion to it.”
He stares sharply at me. “Are you testing me, Mabel?”
I stand my ground. “Yes.”
With a look that says,You’re on, he lifts his free hand, swipes the sugary goodness from his cheek, then licks some off slowly.
Oh.
Oh my.
I believe I’ve just been radicalized by the unexpected hotness of a man eating something sweet. Why has it taken me so long to witness this thirst trap? But damn, the way his tongue flicks past his lips, the way he catches the last bit of frosting with the tip, the way he doesn’t break my gaze…His green eyes are locked on me the whole time as he licks. My chest feels fizzy. My heart is beating so fast.
He lets out a low, satisfied murmur as he finishes. “Believe me now?”
I swallow down my hormones, then nod toward the smidgeon left on his finger. “I would believe you, but I don’t think you got it all.”
He tsks. “You’re right. I didn’t.” In slow-motion, he brings the last bit of frosting to his lips, but with a quickness I don’t see coming, he smears it on my cheek instead.
I gasp. “I was already covered in cake!”
“I’m so sorry,” he says dryly.
“You don’t sound it.”
“Let me show you, then.”
“You’d better,” I say.
Corbin steps closer. When he’s inches away, he whispers a very unapologetic, “Sorry.”
It’s soft and sounds like a promise, then it turns into…a kiss on my cheek.
“Oh,” I say. Or maybe I squeak it as he kisses the frosting off my face, gently, slowly, like he’s savoring the taste. I catch another hint of his aftershave. I caught the scent earlier, but now that he’s even closer, he smells like campfire and the lake. I’ve never been outdoorsy—I despise camping, and I think hiking is worse than CrossFit—and yet, I want to roll around in a tent right now.
Or, just luxuriate in thischaste-ishkiss that’s lasting longer than a cheek kiss should. His lips are so soft and so deliberate. It’s a mind-bending combination. I fantasized about a moment like this for months after I first met him. But I was finishing college, and not only was Corbin Theo’s friend, but he had a young daughter. I didn’t want to date or even sleep with a guy who had a kid, let alone someone my brother knew, so those dirty dreams stayed just that. Now, though, I’m relishing this kiss, this gentle press against my cheek that somehow feels far dirtier than it should.
When he inches away from me after several druggy seconds, he rasps out, “I told you I like cake.”
“Me too,” I say, keenly aware I’m not in college anymore. I don’t feelso much younger than himlike I did then. The other things? I’m not thinking about them as I drag my teeth across my bottom lip. Possibly, I do it to see if he’ll watch me. And I like what I learn. The man can’t look away from my mouth. Just like I haven’t been able to look away from him whenever I’ve seen him over the years, at games, or with my brother, or just…around.
Perhaps I was wrong about the universe hating me. It can’t hate me that much if it’s putting this sexy man in my path, even if he’s best friends with Theo. He’s helpful and braids hair and has strong hands…
