“Oh my god.” I held my arms up to block my face, my stomach aching from laughter. Tears leaked from my eyes. “Stop.”
When the dogs wouldn’t stop, Frasier rolled so he was on top of me, shielding me from them. His muscular body was lined up with mine. Our eyes locked, and my breath caught in my throat.
Holy…
I licked my lips, and his eyes tracked the movement, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He stroked the side of my face, dragging his hand slowly down over my jaw and neck. My eyes fluttered shut briefly.Holy shit, that feels good.
When I reopened my eyes, his gaze was searching, questioning. He leaned forward ever so slightly, and for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. Did I want him to kiss me?
He inched closer, so close I could feel his breath on my skin. I could see the golden flecks in his blue eyes. A starburst ring surrounded his pupil, and it reminded me of the time I’d seen a full solar eclipse. It had been beautiful and awe-inspiring, much like the man staring back at me.
One of the dogs barked, and I startled, nearly head-butting Frasier in the process. Luckily, he had quick reflexes, and he dodged me.
Frasier jolted upright. “I should take them out. I’ll be right back.”
It was almost as if he couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He nearly tripped over Biscuit in his haste, and I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or feel rejected. Because what the hell wasthat?
I stood and smoothed down my hair, trying to calm my racing heart. I wondered what would’ve happened if we hadn’t been interrupted. I wondered—again—if Frasier had been going to kiss me, or if he’d simply gotten caught up in the moment.
I placed my hand on my neck, remembering the feel of his touch. The way he’d looked at me intently as he’d slid his hand over my skin. Sparks still danced from where he’d touched me.
I sighed and headed toward my bedroom. My hands were shaky as I placed my new book in my carry-on bag. I still couldn’t believe he’d given me a signed copy of an unreleased book by my favorite authors. I couldn’t think of a more perfect gift. And the fact that Frasier had known, had gone to the trouble, meant more than anything.
Whyhad he done that?
Because we were friends, and it was a thoughtful gift?
I was tempted to text Georgia to ask for her opinion, but I also didn’t want to read too much into the situation. I hadn’t dated anyone since college, and that was nearly ten years ago. I was out of practice. But Frasier’s and my wrestling match had sent my brain into overdrive, and now I was overthinking everything.
When Frasier returned a few minutes later with the dogs in tow, he said nothing and neither did I. He merely resumed working on the shelving, acting as if the almost-kiss had never happened. But my body was still tingling from his proximity. From the way he’d looked at me, hovered over me, his eyes heavy with desire.
I rolled my lips between my teeth. If the almost-kiss had made things this awkward, I could only imagine how bad it would have been if we’d actually kissed.
“That escalated quickly,” I joked, feeling the need to say something about what had happened. “Sorry for tackling you.” I laughed nervously.
He chuckled, and it dispelled some of the tension inside me. “Maybe you should join Logan on the ice if you’re going to start body checking people.”
“Not sure I’m cut out for that.” I grinned.
“You’re tougher than you look.”
My chest warmed from his compliment. He always knew just what to say to build me up.
“Thank you again for the book.” I met his eyes, wishing I could convey just how much it meant to me. “It’ll be perfect reading for our trip.”
We were scheduled to fly from LA to Miami. After that, we’d board another plane to Anguilla.
He kept his attention on the shelves when he spoke. “I’m glad you like it.”
Biscuit nudged me with her head, begging me to pet her. We lapsed into a comfortable silence as I smoothed my hand over her soft fur. Frasier continued installing the organizers.
“This is going to look so good when it’s done,” I said, admiring the space. “It already does.”
I’d moved Derek’s clothes to the guest closet almost a year ago. I couldn’t handle walking in to get dressed and being confronted with the memories every day. But a half-empty closet wasn’t much better. Now, finally, the closet was going to feel intentional instead of sad.
Frasier nodded. “Hopefully I can finish tonight so you can put your closet back in order before we go.”
“No rush,” I said. “And you know you can come over just to hang out, right? You don’t have to work on a project.”
