I turn in my seat, resting an arm along the back of her headrest, not touching her, but pretty fucking close. Her gaze drops briefly to my mouth, then snaps back to my eyes. A maddeningly cute crease forms between her brows, as though she’s annoyed with herself for the slip.
“You’re staring,” she murmurs.
“I know.”
She licks her lips. “You’re not subtle.”
My eyes stay on her mouth.
“I know.”
Her bottom lip slides beneath her teeth before it pops back out. “Reid…”
“I’m really fucking trying, but…” I huff. “I’m failing.”
Something changes in her expression. Softens and sharpens, both at once.
She inhales, then shifts closer, just a fraction. Not enough to touch, but enough to make the space ache between us.
“I’m not very good at pretending there’s not something here,” she admits quietly.
“Good,” I reply, inching my head closer. “Neither am I.”
The distance between us starts to disappear, not in a rushed or desperate way, more drawn together slowly. My hand lifts, hovering near her jaw, close enough that I can feel the warmthof her skin, the faint hitch in her breath when she realizes how close we are.
Her lips part, and the world narrows to an inch of air between us—
BARP.
A car horn blasts abruptly down the street, shattering the moment, and she jolts back with a startled laugh, one hand flying to her chest.
“Jesus.”
I swear under my breath, dragging a hand down my face. “Unbelievable timing.”
She exhales, then looks at me again, more tentatively now.
“Do you… wanna come up?”
There’s nothing casual about the way she asks, and certainly no careful phrasing. It’s a question that hangs there, weighted with every near-kiss we’ve had this evening.
I tilt my head, my smirk evident. “For what reason?”
She blinks, clearly unprepared to be called on it.
“I—uh… I need to show you something.”
I smile despite myself. “You’re terrible at lying.”
She groans, scrubbing a hand over her face. “Okay, fine. I’m bad at this. I need to show you a, uhh… my new plant, Fernanda the Second? And I’m wearing your jacket and accidentally took it upstairs with me, so you need to come get it back.”
I raise a brow.
“I’m exhausted,” she counters, exasperation in her voice. “That’s my excuse.”
I smile again, helpless to deny her. “You realize I’m gonna come up no matter what you say.”
She huffs a sigh. “Good, because I was two seconds from reminding you I get clumsy when I’m tired, and I don’t wanna fall up the stairs tonight.”
