He nods like a serious miscarriage of justice has taken place, and then the backs of his fingers are gently stroking the underside of my jaw, sending a ripple of need through my entire body.Goodbye, breathing. You were fun while you lasted.Somewhere in the depths of my brain, I know this is a bad idea, but when his fingertips trace down the line of my neck, my brain shoutsCONSEQUENCES, SCHMONSEQUENCES!like it’s rallying an army of bad decisions.
“I promised I wouldn’t kiss you,” he says, but it sounds like he’s talking to himself, trying to summon any last vestiges of rational thought.
“But you already did,” I remind him, leaving the rest of my argument unsaid.What’s one more?
He nods, like my logic is irrefutable. “That’s true,” he agrees. “And Betty could come back. It would be suspicious if we jumped apart.”
There are definitely flaws to this logic. But my eyes are fixed onhis decadent mouth, and I find myself nodding in agreement anyway. “So suspicious,” I whisper.
When his warm lips graze mine again, they’re low and off-center as he licks away the last traces of jam. A small gasp escapes me, but then his mouth is lifting away.No!My hands tighten in his collar, and his eyes lock with mine in silent understanding. When I tug him back, he finally kisses me like I need him to and one thought obliterates all the others.
Chocolate.
He’s ruined it for me. I’ll never be able to eat so much as a single M&M again without becoming painfully aroused. My hand slides into the back of his hair—thick, silky, and made for tugging, and I’m lost. The hot, delicious slide of his tongue against mine is better than any secret fantasy, because I didn’tknow. Had no idea a kiss could be like this—an untamed, living wildfire between two people.
With a groan, Jude takes my hips and turns me against the table, and it’s like every moment of frustration that’s built between us finally has a release valve. I sink my teeth into the bottom lip that’s driven me to distraction countless times, and then he’s sucking my tongue, biting my lips, neither of us able to get enough. A grunt issues from deep in his chest as he presses his hips harder against mine, needing to be closer. When he lifts me onto the table, making room for himself between my legs, I whimper into his demanding mouth. The size and heat of him turn any lingering fragments of self-restraint into an explosion of powdered sugar, scattering on the wind.
His fingers are stroking down my neck, lips and teeth following the trail, and my head falls back.What have I been doing with my life if it wasn’t this and only, exactly, this?With every hot press of his lush mouth on my skin, I feel more alive than I have in years. With every groan of my name, I know I haven’t been the only one lying awake at night trying to deny what we clearly both want. He’s completely wrong for me when I should be trying to find someone who wants the same things I do. Someone like—
“Henry!” I yelp.
Jude’s teeth release the earring he’s been tugging the samemoment I fully realize I’m sitting on the cake-tasting table, and—according to the moisture seeping through the back of my skirt—a slice of cake as well. He lifts his head to stare at me in dazed, hurt confusion.
“I’m not—” he begins to say, but then the bucket of ice water I was hit with seems to drench him, too. “Fuck,” he rasps out.
We stare at each other, both mentally calculating how badly we’ve betrayed Henry. Guilt hits me like a ten-foot wave I’m not expecting, and Jude must see it all over my face.
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he says quickly, but I’m pretty sure he’s incorrect, because I can still taste the chocolate from his mouth. I start shaking my head, but he cuts me off. “I’mhis best friend, Gracie.I’mthe asshole here.”
“Oh my god,” I say quietly, panic setting in.
“I kissed you when I said I wouldn’t,” he goes on, backing away so I can close my wide-open legs and yank down my equally complicit skirt. “I’ll tell him what happened. I’ll tell him it’s my fault.” Misery etches every line of his face. His hair’s a mess, and somehow, there’s pink frosting on his cheekbone that my lizard brain still wants to lick off. “God, I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It wasn’t just your fault,” I say, voice shrill. “In case you didn’t notice, I practically ate your face!”
“Fuck,” Jude says again, pressing a hand over his eyes. He encounters the frosting, looks at his hand, and says “Fuck” one more time for good measure.
Meanwhile, I get an unobstructed view of his crotch and nearly pass away. This was supposed to be a work errand, not the opening scene of a bakery porno! I bring a shaking hand up to brush my bangs into place, but it’s covered in the same pink frosting that was on Jude’s face.Mystery solved. I look down and see that I must have put my hand into the pink-and-white Battenberg that’s half-crushed beneath my butt.GREAT.
Before I can get to my feet, Jude is coming back with a wad of napkins he found somewhere. “Here, let me,” he says, making a move like he’s going to clean me up. But frankly, thelastthing I need rightnow is this man’s magic hands near my ass, so I quickly take the napkins from him.
“I’ve got it,” I say, hopping off the table onto wobbly legs.
“Gracie, we should talk. If this is—”
“I don’t want to talk, Jude!” I say, trying to keep my voice down while shakily wiping cake off my skirt. “We just… took the ruse too far,” I insist, trying to erase every moment my heart wanted to believe our kiss meant anything to him. Jude, the so-called one-night stand expert. Jude, who’ssounavailable that he encouraged his best friend to ask me out. Regret fills my lungs till I can barely breathe, because now Henry, who’s only ever been kind andactuallyinterested in me, is going to find out what we’ve done and be so hurt.
“Ruse?” Jude repeats, like he’s not following.
“To stop Betty from canceling our tasting! I—I just got caught up in the act. It’s not like there’s anything between us, right?” I give a slightly maniacal laugh. “I live for romance. You kill it for a living! We couldn’t be worse for each other.”
“You think I don’t know that?” he snaps, tossing his pink-streaked napkin on the table after wiping his face. “Why do you think I told Henry he should ask you out? He’s the best man I know, and you… you’re so fucking perfect.” At my startled expression, he looks away. “For him, I mean. I’m the last person you want anything to do with, Gracie.”
I know he’s right—he’s the wrong choice for so many reasons, but it doesn’t stop my heart from breaking at the way he automatically writes himself off. It doesn’t silence the unthinking part of me that still wishes I were in his arms. But I have my future to think about, and the simple fact is, we don’t want the same things.
“It was just a mistake,” I whisper, on the verge of tears. “My date with Henry is tomorrow, and he’s perfect for me, too, Jude. Ireallydon’t want to lose my first chance at a normal, healthy relationship in years.”
When he looks at me again, he’s so gorgeously distraught I want to shield my eyes.
