Her eyes widen. “You’ve never… Seriously?”
I shake my head. “I’ve never met anyone I felt this kind of connection with. Someone who I actually want to spend time getting to know.” Someone I would risk letting see the real me, darkness and all, even if it means losing her.
Juliet’s cheeks redden again, and I smile, rubbing my thumb over one.
“Your face is very expressive.”
She groans and buries her head in her hands. “Just what every woman wants to hear.”
I move closer and take her hands in mine, pulling them away from her face. “You don’t have to hide from me.”
“You make it sound so easy,” she says with a self-deprecating laugh.
“That’s what tonight’s about.” I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Getting to know each other.”
Guilt weighs heavily in my stomach; as much as I want to know everything about her, I know I can’t give her the same. Not yet. I’m terrified to think what she’ll do when she finds out about me. But I know I have to give her something.
“Do I get to know the story behind ‘striker’?” she asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
I grin. This is something Icangive her. “You haven’t figured it out by now?”
Her brows furrow. “No?”
A soft chuckle falls from my lips, and I trace a patternover her knuckles with my thumb. “It’s my position on the team.”
“The team?”
My grin widens. She’s adorably clueless. “Beckford U’s soccer team. That’s how I know Everett.”
“Oh,” she says as awareness dawns. “Right. Yeah, of course.”
Something in her tone makes me pause, and I squeeze her hand. “Is it weird for you? That I’m friends with him?”
Her gaze locks on the pattern I’m tracing on her warm skin. “I’m not going to lie… it complicates things.”
My chest tightens. The guilt swirling around in my gut doubles. I’m lying to my housemate about where I am and who I’m with because I know she’s right. He wouldn’t be happy if he knew I was sneaking around with his stepmum.
“We’re figuring out what this is,” I say. “There’s nothing wrong with that. We don’t have to tell him anything until there’s something to tell.”
She hesitates, and I brace myself for her to pull away, to say it’s too messy and not worth the risk.
To my surprise, she leans forward and brushes my hair off my face.
“I guess we should explore this chemistry then, huh?”
The cheeky smirk she shoots me causes my heart to race.
“What are you saying, pixie?” My voice comes out gravelly.
“I’m saying kiss me, striker.”
Goddamn.
I close the distance between us, and when our mouths meet, that familiar jolt of electricity brings my whole bodyto life. She’s intoxicating. I’m greedy for her, and I part my lips, craving a taste. Her tongue grazes mine, and I moan, sliding my fingers into her hair and anchoring her to me.
When I kiss her, all the bad shit in my life fades away. She gives me hope that maybe everything I’ve been through has led me to her.
Without breaking the kiss, I shift on the couch, pulling her over to straddle my lap. She comes willingly, wrapping her arms around my neck. My hands settle on her hips, and I get lost in how perfectly her lips fuse to mine. There’s no urgency, just a low simmering need to never let her go. Our bodies are flush as her tongue dances against mine.
