Page 77 of Dead Pretty

I’ve had a nice time with Jack.

I’m not letting my past take that from me as well.

Jack steers his bike into his usual parking spot outside of our building and turns off the engine.

Holding on to Jack’s arms, I clamber off the bike and manage to undo and get the helmet off for the first time on my own, pulling the beanie off with it.

I retrieve it from the inside of the helmet and offer it back to Jack.

Climbing off the bike with his usual grace, he takes it from me and puts it in the helmet bag along with his own helmet.

“What should I do with this one?” I ask him.

“Keep it,” he tells me.

“Keep it?”

“Yeah. It’s yours. I bought it for you.”

“But …”

His hand cups my cheek, his thumb resting over my lips. “It’s yours.” He smiles. “It’s my way of making sure you ride with me again one day.”

I’ll ride you if you want.

Jesus, Audrey.

Since when did I turn into a sex-starved nympho?

Since Jack, apparently.

“Okay.” It’s my turn to smile. “Well, thank you.”

“No thanks needed.” He stares at me. His eyes darken. It … looks like he wants to kiss me.

I want him to kiss me.

I already know what it feels like to have Jack’s lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth, and I want to feel it again.

So very frigging badly.

I would normally lick my lips, giving him the indication that I want what I think he wants, too, if it didn’t mean I would lick his thumb still resting against my lips. And licking his thumb would just be way too weird, even for me.

So, I try to convey with my eyes that I want him to remove his thumb and replace it with his lips.

Snowflakes start to fall again.

Jack blinks and then glances up at the sky. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

He removes his hand from my face, and my skin instantly goes cold.

I try not to sigh at the loss of both his hand and the kiss that never happened.

Why didn’t he kiss me just then?

Did I get that moment wrong?

Maybe he didn’t want to kiss me at all, and it was all in my head.