“Oh, now you like things straight.”
Florian’s eyes jolt open, then he erupts into giggles. “No, no, Mateo. I only meant—” He does some sort of hand movement.
I raise an eyebrow.
“You match my ruler, I mean. No wobbles.”
“I hope you don’t?—”
His eyes round again, then he shakes his head furiously. “No, I do not do those things with rulers.”
“Because you are German,” I say. “Germanslike order.”
“You have learned too much about Germany,” he says. “How do I make you forget?”
“You could try kissing me.”
His eyes widen.
My eyes widen.
“Sorry,” I say quickly. “I know that’s not what this is?—”
He places a finger over my lips. “It is fine, Mateo. I will try kissing you.”
He eyes my lips tentatively.
I want to tell him he doesn’t need to do that.
I want to tell him it doesn’t matter.
But more than that, I’m curious if he will kiss me.
I want him to.
Desperately.
And then he pulls me toward him, enveloping me in his arms and his expensive cologne scent. Our chests press together. His gaze dips to my lips.
My heart speeds up. He’s going to do it. He’s going to?—
His lips brush against mine. Delicate, tentative, achingly sweet.
Then we are kissing.
He picks me up and leans me against the wall. His hands explore my face, and his lips continue to explore mine with reverence.
Finally, he withdraws. “Like that?”
I stare at him. “You are a great kisser.”
He smirks. “I am an athlete.”
I give a startled laugh, then I wrap my arms around his neck again. He gives a pleased gasp, and this time, I kiss him.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
