“Don’t,” I warned lightly, surprised that I would dare demand he do anything. As usual, he didn’t get angry butjust lifted his brows in innocent denial, though the spark of amusement was there and easy to see.
“I will behave… please continue,” he said, and I scoffed at that before giving in to his request.
“I didn’t realize I’d gone over something,” I went on, looking back out of the window as the buildings slid past.
“I just remember the bubbles stopping and looking down with horror.” I swallowed faintly at the innocent memory.
“Oh dear,” he hummed softly, as if he could picture it for himself.
“It was a frog. I’d… well, I’d squashed it. Not properly, not…” I grimaced.
“But enough.”
His composure wavered, and I accused,
“You’re trying not to laugh!”
“I’m attempting composure,” he corrected smoothly, though the warmth in his voice betrayed him. Without thinking, without calculating the consequence, I reached across the small space between us and smacked the back of my hand lightly against his shoulder.
“Oi,” I scolded like he was the child, my tone faintly teasing at the end.
“This was a traumatic childhood event. Show some respect,” but then the second I realized what I’d done, my breath caught. Because I had…I had just hit him!
It hadn’t been hard, but still, it was enough that he went very still, and my eyes widened slightly because of it.
“Uh… sorry about that,” I muttered quickly, and in an awkward attempt to smooth it over, I gave his shoulder an almost absurd little pat as though that would undo it. But then, as I began to pull my hand back, his fingers closed gently around it, preventing my retreat. It wasn’t a hard grip or done inannoyance. But more like he had just captured a fluttering bird in his grasp.
Then he gave my hand a gentle squeeze, his gaze steady on mine as he said quietly,
“Never apologize for touching me.”
The air shifted.
I arched a brow, trying to recover ground.
“So let me get this straight,” I replied, sliding back into teasing because it felt safer than whatever that tone had been.
“I have full permission to punch you in the face when you’re irritating me?”
A low chuckle left him, and it was yet another sound I could shamelessly grow addicted to.
“You may try, but I cannot guarantee where you would end up.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and crossed my arms over my chest.
“Meaning?”
His gaze darkened slightly, as though the scene had already played out in his mind before he decided to share it with me.
“Meaning, that I might catch your wrist before it lands. Perhaps I then pull you off balance…” he replied smoothly, pausing so he could lean closer, taking my wrist in his hand like he was about to play out the scenario for me.
Which meant I shouldn’t have been surprised when he suddenly yanked me closer to him so he could finish painting this particular picture for me.
“…Perhaps you would then find yourself halfway to the floor before realizing it or…” His thumb, once again, brushed against the back of my hand, before he then whispered seductively,
“…Or pinned beneath me.”
My mouth dropped open.
