“No.”Yes.
His fingers meet my chin, his thumb nudging lightly to turn my face up toward his. Our eyes lock and he says, “I want to kiss you. But I don’t want to cross your lines.”
I nod. “I want you to kiss me.”
He smiles like he just won something rare.
His hand trails slowly along my jaw, cupping the back of my neck, and then his mouth descends toward mine. My breath stills. His lips are warm and soft and he makes this humming noise that sends chills through me. I’m in shock for the briefest flicker of a moment. EJ is kissing me. But then his hands move down my arms, gripping me softly and my brain shuts down. My whole world is EJ and this porch and my arms looping around his neck, tugging him toward me, silently begging him not to stop.
I sag toward him, nearly losing my balance in the headiness of his touch. I should have known. EJ’s persistence doesn’t stop at asking me out. He’s persistent in the way he listens to me. The way he stares at me. And this. His kiss. It’s like he’s waited for me for years and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get to kiss me again.
I hum softly, not meaning to, but not being able to help myself, and he smiles into our kiss, pulling back slowly and staring down into my eyes. His forehead drops onto mine.
“Angie.”
“EJ.” I breathe out his name.
We stand there, his hands still bracing my arms, our breaths coming in a more even rhythm.
He shakes his head, smiling widely.
Then his face grows serious. “Are you okay?”
“I’m so okay,” I assure him. “I haven’t had a kiss in nearly five years.”
“Good for me. You’ve got nothing to compare me to.” He laughs.
I’m pretty sure I don’t need anything to compare him to in order to know that’s the best kiss I’ve ever had. But I keep that tidbit to myself. We were supposed to go out once. One dinner. That’s it.
I don’t regret kissing EJ—far from it. I just don’t know how this works.
My boys need stability.
My life is full. I work and I take care of two rambunctious, busy, needy boys.
I don’t know if I have time for more.
EJ reaches up and taps his pointer to my temple.
“There’s a lot going on in there. Care to share with the class?”
“I don’t think the class can handle my level of overthinking,” I tell him.
“Try me.”
He tugs me into a hug, tucking my head under his chin, as if he knows I need the support and comfort he’s freely giving me.
“I like you—a lot,” I say, smiling despite the raging confusion going on under the surface.
“That’s really good news,” he says. “Because I like you a lot.”
“I don’t know how this works.”
“You seemed to know just how it worked,” he teases. “Ten out of ten on the competency scale.”
I laugh. “EJ. I’m being serious.”
“Okay,” he says, his voice softening and his hand running down my back. “How it works is however you want it to work. I meant that when I said it, Angie. We like each other. Let’s just go slowly. You can tap the brakes or you can hit the gas. You can pull over and kick me out of the car. It’s all up to you.”
