“Well, hello there, Stan, is it?” A tease curls her lips.
“Emily, right?” I counter.
Throwing her head back, she lets out a sweet, gut-twisting laugh. Everything inside me zaps awake, heating and pulsing like a bear coming out of hibernation. I’m suddenly ravenous, like I haven’t eaten in days. Her teeth scrape against her bottom lip, and my mouth goes dry.
“So…” I ignore the crack in my voice, and she graciously does too. “Funny to run into you here.”
“Oh, yeah? Do you come to the art building often?”
“Ha, yeah,” I stammer. “All the time.”
“Right.” She smiles and takes a step closer. Her expression is a mask, aloof, like she’s not nearly as flustered as I am. And I hate to admit that it’s working for me. “So what do I owe this pleasure, Steven?”
My blood heats at the way she says my name. Slow and intentional. Lethal. The vein in my neck pulses erratically as her breath brushes my skin. Her red lips are so close…and so much trouble.
“I, uh…wanted to see you.”
“Just couldn’t get enough of me, huh?” she jokes.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” I blurt out before I lose my nerve.
She blinks up at me, the mask cracking. “What?”
I should pull back. I’ve never been so forward before. But I’ve also never felt this way. Never felt so alive. I would be the stupidest man on the planet if I let this feeling slip away.
“I had an amazing time with you last night, Emma Bailey,” I add. “And I would very much like to see you again.”
Her breath catches, her cheeks flush, and I think I might just have a chance. But then a slow breath flows out of her.
“I thought I made myself clear.” Her eyes stay pinned to my chest, oddly empathetic as they fixate on the toad wearing a cowboy hat on my shirt. “I’m not looking for anything serious right now.”
“You did say that,” I murmur under my breath, and her thick lashes flutter. “But I also know a man’s brain isn’t fully developed until age twenty-five, so I, unfortunately, can’t accept that as fact.”
She laughs. It’s sharp and sweet, but she still won’t meet my eyes.
“Why won’t you look at me?”
“Because…” she whispers.
I tilt her chin gently, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll back off.”
“I…” Her eyes flutter closed, and she takes a deep, fortifying breath. “I can’t… I’m not a liar.”
I smile, helpless against the relief crashing over me. She’s scared. She has every right to be. I am too. Because whatever is going on inside of me is wild, and new, and downright impossible toignore.
“I have plans…” she adds.
“Tonight? That’s fine, I can see you tomorrow.”
“No, plans for mylife.” She smirks. “I have a binder.”
This makes me snort, and she swats at the toad. I catch her wrist and pull it close to my mouth, letting my breath linger there. Goosebumps bloom up her arm.
“You are a huge disruption to my plans, Steven Jones.”
“Disruptions can be a good thing.”
“Or they can be detrimental.”
