Page 33 of Under Her

Actually, I don’t know what she meant, but I’m not going to push her on it.

Even though I am enjoying seeing her squirm.

She puts her drink down but doesn’t look at me.

I move a little closer, and in a lowered voice, I say, “If you did get lipstick on me, I wouldn’t mind.”

Her eyes whip to mine, but she doesn’t look offended. She looks…interested, and there’s a definite hint of desire in there, too. And, right now, it’s hard to remember why I can’t kiss the hell out of her.

Her breathing has gone shallow, like my own.

It feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of this place along with everything else.

Nothing exists to me right now, except for her.

Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. My eyes are pulled to it.

I want to kiss her.

And I know she definitely wants me to.

I lift my eyes back to hers. “Before, when I said you looked nice, what I was actually thinking is that you looked gorgeous.”

Her breath catches.

Fuck it. I’m going to do it. I’m going to kiss her.

“Darling!” The sound of my mother’s voice pierces right through the moment.

Morgan’s eyes widen with shock, and she moves away from me.

My heart is hammering in my chest.

“Mom, Dad,” I say, rising to kiss my mom’s cheek. I get a pat on the back in greeting from my dad.

Morgan stands, too. Her cheeks are flushed. “Hi, Mrs. Cross, Mr. Cross,” Morgan greets them. I notice that her voice sounds as shaky as I feel.

“It’s Frank and Nancy. How many times do I have to tell you?” my mom good-naturedly chides her. Then, she leans over and kisses Morgan’s cheek.

My parents take the seats across from us. My dad pulls out my mom’s chair for her and waits while she sits, like he always does.

“Sorry we’re late,” my mom says to us.

“You’re not late,” I tell her.

But I wish they had been. Then, I might have—no, I would have kissed Morgan. And I don’t know whether to be pissed or relieved that I didn’t get to kiss her. Because kissing Morgan would be a bad idea.

Not the kissing part. That would be amazing; I have no doubt about that. It’s the after that would be bad. The awkwardness of the fact that we work together. We run the company together. I can’t kiss her, and I definitely can’t fuck her.

So, it’s good that we were interrupted.

Our waitress appears again and asks for my parents’ drink orders. My mom tells her that she’s going to stick with the wine I already ordered. My dad orders a whiskey sour.

The whole time she’s at the table, taking their orders, she’s making sex eyes at me. But I’m more concerned with the fact that Morgan hasn’t looked at me. Not once.

And it’s pissing me off.

I want to know what she’s thinking.