The urge to run bubbled up inside me. If I didn’t start talking right now, I’d give into it.
“I’ve been thinking about the kissing.” The words tumbled out faster than I’d planned.
His gaze locked on mine. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I twisted my fingers together, forced myself to keep talking. “And I want to be honest with you, because you deserve that. I’m really attracted to you. Like, embarrassingly so.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “That doesn’t sound embarrassing. And ditto, just in case you missed that memo.”
Okay, well, we were off to a pretty good start, but “I’m just so bad at…”
“At?”
I gestured vaguely at my body, at the space between us, feeling the heat climb my neck. “I’m not... I can’t go where you probably want to go. I have limits. Hard ones.”
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. I wanted to vomit.
“Emily, sweetheart. Just give it to me straight and stop torturing yourself.”
Sweetheart.
“I feel like a tease,” I said, my voice low. “And I don’t want to waste your time.”
There. I’d said it. I braced myself for the polite letdown. The awkward “let’s just be friends” speech.
Cam sat forward, the recliner creaking under his shift in weight. The playful neighbor vibe was gone, replaced by something darker. Something intense that made my breath hitch.
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” His voice was tight. “Checking a watch? Waiting for a payout?”
“I...” I swallowed hard. “I’m just saying it’s not fair to you, that I can’t give you what you want.”
“What doyouwant?”
“Well, I, uh…”I want you to kiss me fucking senseless.
“Are you saying you just want to go back to being neighbors?”
I shook my head.
“Uh, I see. Well, that is good news.”
“Is it?” My gaze slid to his, then away. This wasn’t going how I’d played it out in my head. “I’m not really sure what’s going on here.”
He let out a short, rough laugh and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Emily. Look at me.”
Swallowing heavily, I forced myself to look him in the eye.
“I’m thirty-eight years old. I’m not looking for a quick score. I know you’re skittish. I see the way you freeze up.” He leaned closer, his forearms resting on his knees. “So here is how this works. You set the pace. You draw the line. My hands go where you put them. Nowhere else.”
My brain was working double time to process what he was saying. “That doesn’t sound like a lot of fun for you.”
“Are you kidding? Kissing you is my favorite hobby.”
That actually made me smile.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking you’re crazy to agree to this. But I’m also thinking I really want you to kiss me right now.”
