I glance at the low-hanging sun, disquiet stealing over me. Isn’tPride & Prejudicesome powerhouse of romance or some shit? “I don’t know what that means.”
She stares at me like I’m an idiot. “Foreheads together. Eyes closed. Come on, you know!Your hands are cold.”
I look at Joss for help. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”
She nods, but before she does anything, her attention strays to Ali. Something unexplainable passes between the sisters, and Ali sends her two thumbs-up. Yayoi thrusts her phonein my face, showing me the pose she wants—a sun-drenched movie scene of two characters obviously in love.
Ha.
This is just... torture.
Joss clears her throat and smiles at me—a pinched, artificial smile, like this might be as hard for her as it is for me. Don’t know what to make of that. She erases the distance between us, standing close enough that faint traces of her sweet, girly scent snake their way inside. Straight into my bloodstream. Then she sets her ringed hand on my chest, just over my heart.
Not good.
Thump, thump, thump.
Obediently, I drop my forehead to hers like Yayoi wants and lift my hand to her chin. The backs of my fingers barely caress her throat.
Agonizingly soft, she is. Like velvet against my skin.
Urges that don’t belong hammer at my nerves. I’m compelled to touch more. Tip her face up. Graze my lips across hers.
It aches, this want. And it’s... familiar? Has it been here all this time, hiding? Like an old injury I can ignore until the weather acts up?
The cameraclicks, clicks, clicks.
She draws in a deep breath. Does she need steadying, maybe? Because I’m really fucking unsteady. I’m hovering in a place I’ve never been, and I’m not sure I want to leave. Rules snap in half as I move against my will. Ever so slowly, I angle my face away from the camera, sliding to the side of hers. I push her hair away from her cheek with my nose and inhale.
Her scent is overpowering. Drugging. Have I ever been this close to it? Hints never picked up before sing across my senses. Indescribable. Sweet.
It all hits me hard. Not like a sledgehammer or freight train. No, it’s more precise. An ice pick. A line drive. Striking over and over.
Want her. Want her. Want her.
Forbidden. Forbidden. Forbidden.
Thump, thump, thump.
Click, click, click.
We stand, temple to temple, barely breathing, and her hand against my chest gradually curls into a fist, clenching on the fabric of my shirt.
“This is perfect, you guys. I’m probably pushing my luck here, but how would you feel about a kiss?”
Yayoi’s question wrenches me out of this terrible, inappropriate train of thought. Joss and I both turn our heads to stare at her, silent. I can’t kiss her. What— Why— What the actual fuck? How could Yayoi even suggest it?
“Yikes,” Yayoi says, responding to whatever incredulity must be launching off our faces like laser beams. “Never mind.”
Behind her, Ali hides her silent laughter behind her hands.
Joss releases my shirt and backs away, staring hard at Yayoi. “Surely, you have enough.”
Yayoi scrolls through her shots, and I do my best not to look at Joss.
Impossible endeavor. I fail utterly. Our eyes meet, dart away, then clash again. We’ve never been awkward. Not even in our most tricky moments. But we’re awkward now.
Makes my soul itch.
