He chuckled.
“Where’s the button?”
“Right here.” He took my hand and pulled me closer. Really close. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel his arms circling my back.
“Hey,” I protested weakly.
“Oops,” he said, not sounding sorry in the least. “God, you feel nice. I swear, you’re the softest human being that ever existed.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls you get trapped in secret rooms with.”
“You may not believe this, but you’re my first fellow trapee.”
“Sure this isn’t some crazy pickup trick?”
“Now that you say it, I think I read about this in one of those bro guides to getting girls. Is it working?”
“Panic is the best aphrodisiac.”
“Are you really panicked?”
“Depends on how much air we have.”
“So much air. All the air you could want.”
“Okay, fine,” I said. “I’m not panicked.”
“Good,” he said, holding me a little tighter. Which felt... pretty nice, actually. “I’ve got a great idea. Want to hear it?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“I’m going to kiss you again.”
“Here?”
“Right now. A do-over kiss. Pretend we’ve never done this before. Okay?”
Maybe I should have pulled away. A minute ago I was upset he wasn’t confiding in me. Now here I was, shamelessly pressing my body against his, which was what got us in trouble the first time around.
“Birdie,” he whispered into my ear, sending tingles across my skin. “I need an answer.”
“Um...”
His lips brushed against mine and hovered there, hesitating, breath warm. My hands trembled. And now I was afraidhewas going to change his mind and pull away.
So I kissed him.
Just a small, testing press of my mouth to his. But. His lips didn’t move. For a moment I wondered if I’d misread him, or maybe everything he’d just said was all in my imagination. It certainlyfeltlike a dream. And then, and then—
OhGod, did he kiss me back.
His mouth was on mine. Warm. Open. Eager. He kissed me like he meant it—like he was trying to say a thousand things to me at once. Like he’d been lying awake and thinking about kissing me again since that first day we met in the diner, even after he’d gotten to know the real me.
Like we belonged together.
Somewhere outside our shelter of darkness, a voice was shouting. It was Wadsworth, calling time. We broke apart, breathing heavy, still tangled up in each other’s arms.
“Dammit,” Daniel murmured, letting go of me.
