She looked up, startled to find how close their faces had become. She was bent over his arm, her nose practically touching his skin, and his face was right there, only inches away. She could count his eyelashes if she wanted to. She could see the scar that crossed his cheekbone, the one she’d noticed earlier but hadn’t had a chance to study.
“I’m observing,” she said. But her voice came out breathless, and she wasn’t sure anymore what she was observing. His arm? His face? The way tiny green flames seemed to glow in his eyes?
“You observe very thoroughly.”
“I like to be comprehensive.”
His mouth curved—not quite a smile, but something close. The expression transformed his face, softening the hard angles, making him look younger. More approachable. More...
Beautiful, her mind supplied. The word seemed inadequate. She’d seen beautiful things before—sunrises, flowers, the patterns of light through water. But none of them had made her feel like this. Like her chest was too small for everything happening inside it.
“Your heart rate is elevated,” she said. “I can feel it in your wrist. And your pupils are dilated. Those are usually signs of fear or excitement.” She tilted her head, studying him like she’d study a particularly puzzling experiment. “Which is it?”
“I don’t know.”
The honesty of the answer surprised her. He seemed like someone who always knew what he was feeling, who had complete control over himself. But right now, looking at her with those glowing eyes, he seemed almost as lost as she felt.
This is what the books meant,she realized.This feeling. This pull.
She’d read about the inexplicable chemistry that drew people together. She’d thought she understood it intellectually—pheromones and hormones and evolutionary imperatives. But she hadn’t understood how it would feel. Like gravity. Like falling.
Like the most natural thing in the world.
“I want to try something,” she said.
His expression shifted to wariness. “What kind of something?”
“An experiment.”
“Liora—”
But she was already leaning forward, closing the small distance between them. Her lips found his before she could talk herself out of it, before she could consider all the reasons why this might be a terrible idea.
The first thing she noticed was softness. His lips were softer than she’d expected, warm and smooth against hers. The second thing she noticed was that she had no idea what she was doing.
She’d read about kissing. But nothing had prepared her for the reality of it—the awkward angle of her neck, the uncertainty about where to put her hands, and the strange intimacy of sharing breath with another person.
For a moment, he was utterly still. She felt him freeze against her, felt the tension coil through his body. Then?—
He made a sound low in his throat, barely audible, as his hand came up to cup the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair, and suddenly the kiss was something else entirely.
His mouth moved against hers with purpose, guiding her, teaching her. She felt the pressure of his lips change, felt him angle his head to fit them together better. A spark of something electric raced down her spine, and she gasped against his mouth.
He pulled back immediately. His hand fell away from her hair, and he pushed back his chair, moving to the other side of the kitchen in three quick strides.
She stood frozen in place, her lips tingling, her heart hammering against her ribs.
“That was—” she started.
“A mistake.” His voice was rough. He had his back to her, his hands braced against the counter, his shoulders a rigid line. “That shouldn’t have happened.”
Mistake.The word made her flinch. She’d done something wrong. Made him uncomfortable. Violated some social rule she didn’t know existed.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and hated how small her voice sounded. “I didn’t mean to... I just wanted to know what it felt like. I’ve never?—”
“I know.” He still wasn’t looking at her. “That’s the problem.”
“What do you mean?”
