“Immenselyattractive,” he said without hesitation. “And you are also very much correct.”
We just...looked at each other then. Too long. Long enough that the memories from last night flickered through my entire body like a power surge, making my knees feel dangerously unreliable.
“Stop,” I whispered.
His pretty mouth curled. “Stop what?”
“Distracting me with your—your steamy staring,” I snapped, waving a hand vaguely in his direction. “Physical things can fizzle out, Khalifa, but emotions...”
“I’m sorry, Lillian,” he said, taking a slow step toward me. “I know I hurt you when I said I didn’t feel anything. Believe me—it hurt to say it.” He ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have said it. Not like that. Not to you.” He exhaled, eyes softening as they searched mine. “And I won’t deny that I am absolutely infatuated by you, your beauty, your...everything. Painfully infatuated, actually. But it doesn’t compare to howI feel aboutyou. I mean,” he continued, voice dipping, “as pathetic as it sounds, I’m pretty sure you struck a match in my heart the moment I saw you spying on me through a pair of binoculars like a psycho stalker.”
My jaw dropped, breath catching somewhere between horror and disbelief. “You saw me?”
He laughed loudly—reallylaughed, head tilted back, eyes crinkling, the sound bright enough to make my skin prickle. “The whole restaurant saw you.”
“Oh my God.” My cheeks went hot. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” he said, grinning. “Next time you want to scope out the guy you’re about to have a blind date with, maybe don’t be so obvious about it. Kind of defeats the whole covert surveillance vibe.”
I groaned, covering my face. “I can’t believe this. I thought I was being subtle.”
“The binoculars were a nice touch,” he said lightly. “Gave off a strong ‘local neighborhood creep’ aesthetic. I almost called the police. But then you walked in and started insulting me, and I had to pretend I hated you on principle.”
I dropped my hands, glaring at him through a mortified smile. “Youdidhate me.”
“No. I was just trying really hard not to like you. You were sitting there, dressed in that ridiculous, sparkly lady suit, and being incredibly loud and rude. What was I supposed to do?”
“Maybe not insult me back?”
He took another step forward, the humor in his eyes melting. “I was doomed the second you pretended not to hear me sayvegan.”
I groaned again, half-laughing now. “Please stop talking.”
“You know, for someone who claims to hate me, you made quite the impression. I remember thinking, ‘this woman could ruin me.’”
“And you let me,” I said.
He met my gaze, the teasing fading into something truer. “No,” he said. “I think I wanted you to.”
He was in front of me now, his hand finding mine. My pulse leapt against my wrist where his thumb brushed a steady drag.
“You said you couldn’t,” I whispered, “because you’d end up hurting me.”
“I meant that.”
“So what changed? You don’t care about hurting me anymore?”
“I care,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt you.” His fingers slid to my cheek, tracing the outline of my face tenderly. “But I think trying to stay away from you is just hurting us both.”
He said it so simply, like it was a fact. Like all the sleepless nights of avoidance, and arguments, and near-touches had led us here, to this tiny, impossible collision.
“My perfect, adorably unhinged girl,” he murmured, skimming my jaw with the tip of his nose. “I wish I could breathe you in until there’s nothing left of me that isn’t yours.”
My brain tried to catch up. My vocal cords tried to form a response. Neither succeeded.What the hell was I supposed to say to that?But then he pressed his lips against mine, saving me from having to come up with a reply.
When we kissed last night, it was in the chaotic heat of the moment—all heavy breathing, desperate grabs, sharp edges and bad decisions. I didn’t have time to think because my mind had turned into a mushy pile of pent-up desire, and I’d been operating purely on adrenaline, stupidity, and maybe a little dehydration.
This was different.
