Page 14 of Hooked on Love

I don’t linger. I turn away and walk to my bedroom on shaky legs, very aware of his eyes on me down the hall. I close the door and lean against it, my heart pounding.

My wrist still tingles where he touched me.

I fall onto my bed and stare at the ceiling, replaying the way he held onto me, the way his thumb stroked my skin like he couldn’t help himself…

And I wonder, lying here in the dark, acutely aware he’s just on the other side of the wall, what would’ve happened if he hadn’t let go?

Taco Tuesday

Jake

I replay the same ten seconds over and over in my head.

Those blue eyes wide, lips parted, breathing fast. How close I came to finding out if her mouth tastes as sweet as it looks…

And how I let go instead.

I throw an arm over my face and groan quietly into the pre-dawn darkness.

This is a problem.

She is a problem.

Not because she’s done anything wrong, she’s been nothing but accommodating despite me literally walking into her life, but because every time I’m near her, I want to be closer. Every time she smiles, I want to make her smile again. I want to hear her laugh, ask about her day. And when she thanked me for coming home, like it actually mattered to her…

Yeah. Problem.

By the time her bedroom door opens, I’m in the kitchen making coffee like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She appears in the hallway, and I’m awestruck all over again.

Beautiful.

“Good morning,” she says, but there’s something careful in her voice. Like she’s not sure what I was thinking last night. Hell, I’m not even sure myself.

“Morning.” I gesture to the coffee maker. “Just made a fresh pot.”

“Perfect,” she sighs, setting down two pairs of shoes she brought out of her bedroom by the door. She moves into the kitchen, and we end up doing this awkward dance where we’re both trying not to get too close, but also not make it obvious we have to be in this small space.

“You, uh, planning an outfit change?” I ask, attempting to break the tension.

She glances down at the shoes, then back up at me with a small smile. “Oh. No, I’m walking to work today. I wear sneakers for the walk and change into my flats when I get there.”

“You walked yesterday?”

“No, I drove. I was worried about rain.” She pauses, then adds quietly, “And I didn’t sleep well the night before, so I was tired.”

Because a stranger let himself in. My stomach twists at the knowledge I scared the hell out of her to the point she lost sleep over it.

“But the weather’s nice today,” she continues, “so I thought I’d walk. It’s only about fifteen minutes.”

Fifteen minutes in the same direction I’m heading.

“I could walk with you,” I offer.

Her eyes widen slightly. “Oh. You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” There’s that damn word again—want—but I can’t take it back now. “If that’s okay.”

A smile spreads across her face, slow and devastatingly gorgeous. “Okay.”