Keegan extracts his hand from my hair, slowly, like he's mesmerized by the texture of each lock. Then he turns to face Selah, keeping his other arm behind me and tucking me against his side, even though he's still holding the box of macarons.
“Oh,” he says to Selah, as if he just now remembered she was here. “Did you need something?”
“I ...” she trails off, her gaze flickering from me to Keegan as if the sight of us together has fractured her understanding of the universe.
“You were saying something about a restaurant opening?”
The question is clearly aimed at her, but as he asks it, he nuzzles his nose into my hair at my temple, giving the unmistakable impression that he can't stop touching me long enough to talk to her.
Selah takes a step back, her cheeks flushing. “Um, no. I just ...” She lets out an annoyed huff of air. “Well, I guess I'll see you two around. Or not.”
She turns and walks off down the hall, her long legs carrying her around the corner and out of sight.
Keegan keeps his arm around me as he walks to his door, then drops it as he unlocks his door and holds it open for me. Mind still reeling, I follow him in.
Once the door is closed, he leans against it and lets out a groan of relief.
“Thank you for that.”
“For the cookies?” I ask ... still sounding stupid. Stillfeelingstupid. Because what in the name of all that's holy just happened?
“For letting me kiss you.” He pushes away from the door and walks over to the island counter separating his kitchen from the living area and sets the box down.
He's so casual and unaffected. Because of course he is. Meanwhile, I'm a confused, emotional, horny mess.
“Every time I've come home in the past month, I've run into Selah in the lobby. She keeps mentioning events she's going to and restaurants she wants to try. I'm exhausted from trying to come up with reasons to say no.”
“That's why you kissed me,” I say numbly, the puzzle pieces falling into place.
He opens the box and pulls out two macarons, holding one out to me. His gaze roams my face, like he's searching for something. Some hint of ... I don't know what.
Then he flashes me a smile that's all smug arrogance. “Yeah. Sorry to pounce on you like that.”
I'm sure he intends that smile to be just a normal friendly smile, but those lips were on mine just a few minutes ago, and I feel the effect of that smile all the way to my core.
I step closer and accept the macaron he's holding, trying to wrap my brain around the fact that Keegan kissed me. That it was possibly the best, most mind-blowing kiss of my life, and it was just for show. Not that I have a lot of experience with mind-blowing kisses, but still.
“A little heads up before having to channel my inner coquette would've been nice.”
His eyebrow raises, “Inner coquette?”
“You know, the part inside of you that's flirty and attractive and you know ...” I feel myself start to color. I'm honestly talking to Keegan, of all people, about being a coquette. About being attractive or like ... sexual. On any level. My neck is becoming so hot I'm pretty sure it could fry an egg.
Mission abort.
Mission abort.
I clear my throat, trying again. “I mean, the coquette Meg is largely invisible and practically nonexistent, as you know. Due to how bad I am at the flirting.” I force a chuckle. “But if I know it's coming, maybe I can be prepared. Maybe workshop some ideas for banter first.”
He laughs. “You're thinking too much.”
“That's me. Overthinking things is my superpower. But I can pull up a shred of flirtiness to help in a pinch. Like quarterly or something.”
“So you're saying you have a quarterly sexy allotment I can access?”
I nod brightly, doing my best to shove away the very clear and sensual and x-rated images flooding my head of what Keeganaccessingme would look like. “Anything for a friend!”
Then I realize how that sounds, and I shove the entire macaron in my mouth before I can say anything else stupid.
