Turning to share my observation, I ransmackinto the brick wall masquerading as his chest. Automatically, his arms wrapped around me, and I had no idea what to do.
“Whoa there, Speed Racer.”
The laugh in his voice vibrated through me, sending tiny jolts of electricity arcing through my veins.
“Um,” I said into his chest, “there’s only one chair.” At last I glanced up at him. “Maybe we should try the kitchen after all.”
“Most of the time, I spread out over my bed, so you can have the chair and the desk—unless you want to flop down on the bed too.” He grinned down at me. “I’ll make room.”
Pulling out of his embrace, I wandered over to the desk. “This is good.” I frowned. “Why do you have it pushed against the wall? Why not over here”—I pointed to spot below the window—“where your body doesn’t block out the natural light?”
“When I located my desk by the window, I never did any work.”
My brow slid up.
He chuckled. “Step over there and look outside.”
I did as he suggested and immediately figured out the problem. His window faced the street. Across the road from their house was another old Victorian whose front porch was teeming with people even though it had started to snow on this fine February Sunday afternoon.
“The basketball team won an away game yesterday. We’re supposed to be over there helping them celebrate. If my desk looked out on that, the temptation to stroll over to play flip-cup would be damn hard to ignore.” Stuffing his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, he explained, “With my desk facing the wall, I can pretend I don’t know what’s going on across the street, so I won’t feel like I’m missing out when I’m plowing through a mountain of unnecessary physics problems purely designed to stroke my prof’s fragile ego.”
I let the corner of my mouth tip up. “Guess we should tackle those problems so you can show off in class tomorrow.”
I hefted my backpack onto the edge of his desk and unzipped it, pulling out my laptop, my notebook, and my own physics book, stacking my gear beside Finn’s before returning my bag to the floor. Taking the hint, Finn stepped up beside me and snagged his books from the desk to deposit them in the middle of his massive bed. His eyes danced wickedly as he hopped up onto it and stretched out, his back resting against a mass of pillows piled against the headboard. He reached over to the nightstand where he’d deposited the bag of cookies and pulled one out. Breaking it in half, he said, “You want some?”
Planting my hands on my hips, I said, “You’re offering me half? I want the whole cookie.”
His eyes heated. “Me too.”
Somehow I didn’t think he was talking about sweets.
While taking a man-size bite of one half while holding up the other and crooking his finger, he motioned me to the side of his bed. I took a step in that direction then abruptly changed course and raced to the nightstand with the idea of snagging the bag with the other two cookies in it.
Finn must have figured out my intention the moment I made it because he managed to grab the bag and toss it over his body to land it on the bed on the other side of him a second ahead of me reaching the nightstand.
With a magnanimous wave, he offered me the half a cookie again. “We’re sharing, Chessly. Catch up.” Those incredible eyes of his teased me as he watched me over the top of the second bite of his half.
Baring my teeth at him, I snatched my treat and retreated to the foot of the bed where I leaned a hip against the mattress and savored a bite of nutty, chocolate-and-butterscotch-chip delight. As we ate our dessert, we watched each other, wheels turning in both of our heads. I worked to devise a distraction that would allow me a shot at stealing that bag so I could enjoy a whole cookie. No doubt he was thinking about how he was going to deny me my goal and remain in control of our treats.
As I finished off my half, Finn swung his long legs over the side of the bed, giving me a better shot at hopping up there and attaining my goal. But right as I made my move, he wrapped his hands around my waist. I landed on his lap with a squeak, and he laughed.
His gaze zeroed in on my mouth. “You’re kind of messy, you know that?”
“I am not,” didn’t come out as forceful as I intended—not with him staring at my mouth like it was second dessert.
Leaning in, he touched the tip of his tongue to the corner of my lips, teasing and licking my skin as I closed my eyes and held my breath. Tiny tremors rippled over my cheek as my body tightened in anticipation of what he’d do next. When he pulled back, I lost myself in the dark depths of his eyes, their whiskey-colored irises rimming the black pools of his pupils.
“You had a little chocolate there.” The hoarse sound of his voice shot straight to my center.
“Oh,” came out on a whisper.
“Looks like a little butterscotch got left behind here.” He licked the opposite corner of my mouth—the barest of touches that made my blood bubble in my veins.
Somehow, my hands had found their way to his wide shoulders where I gripped him out of fear I might melt into a gooey mess right in the center of his lap.
Then he brushed his lips over mine, and I melted all over him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
