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A moment passed by in silence, Claire biting her tongue before throwing caution to the wind. “Of course, she was probably wondering why you were holding my hand at the ballet tonight.”

A small smile reached his eyes. “I wasn’t holding your hand. I was merely resting my hand on yours.”

“Right.” She leaned against the side of the booth’s red-pained wall. Liam always seemed perfectly comfortable teasing her. Perhaps it was time for her to do the same to him. “Then what’s your excuse for almost kissing me earlier?”

His lips parted. He was clearly surprised she’d had the courage to bring it up. Honestly, she was surprised herself. What was with her tonight? She was supposed to be finding ways to distract herself from Liam’s kiss, not bringing it up herself.

“Perhaps I was offering resuscitation,” he joked, glancing to her lips.

“To a person who was conscious?”

He shrugged. “You were lying on the floor.”

He looked again to her lips, and she unconsciously wet them with a touch of her tongue. “Either way, we would have been crazy to follow through with it.”

“Just like we’d be crazy to follow through with it now,” he returned.

Their eyes connected, and the air hummed between them. They were actually talking about kissing. Kissing. What would a kiss from Liam Everhart feel like—dancing to her favorite song by Josh Groban? Being wrapped in a weighted blanket and watching re-runs of Friends? Admiring a firework display at New Year’s with all the hope of a brighter future?

She glanced through the warped glass of the telephone booth. Melody and Dean must have been farther ahead now. No doubt they were still completely unaware that Claire and Liam hadn’t followed them. Or maybe Dean had pulled Melody aside to make out with her down some dark alley.

That meant that Melody wouldn’t interrupt them this time. But then…

“We’d be worse than Melody and Dean if we did follow through,” she said, her mind spinning. “PDA at its finest.”

“Unless we found somewhere more private than a carousel.”

A moment passed, his eyes shining with mischief before he took a step forward and joined her in the phonebooth.

Her breath caught in her throat at his close proximity, and she took a step back, bouncing against the wall of the booth. “What are you doing?” she asked, pulling on her best frown, though anticipation burned in her chest.

“I’m giving us a little more privacy.”

She tried to take another step back from his commanding figure, but the telephone booth had shrunk considerably with his broad shoulders and towering stance. “You do realize this telephone box is mostly made of glass, right?” she asked.

“Inconsequential detail.”

She laughed, a giddiness rushing through her limbs. If she drew so much as a single deep breath, her body would be up against his. But then, isn’t that what she wanted? To be near to this man, to kiss him, to let go of her inhibitions for one night and just live?

“What if someone sees us?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as her reserves weakened one by one. “Or what if Melody comes back and finds us?”

“Then we tell her the truth.” His eyes delved into hers. “That there is nothing between us.” He took a step closer to her. “Of course, even if there is nothing between us, that doesn’t mean that I haven’t been dying to tell you how absolutely stunning you look this evening.”

Her breathing shallowed as his eyes caressed every inch of her face. “Is stunning better than ‘nice’?” she whispered.

His alluring half-smile made her head spin. “Far, far better.” He slipped his hand beneath her unbuttoned coat, encircling his warm fingers around her waist. “Do you remember at the Christmas Market,” he whispered, his eyes moving down to her lips, “you promised me you’d answer a question of my own.”

She nodded.

He brought his other hand up, his thumb caressing the skin along the length of her jaw and chin, drawing dangerously close to her lips. “Will you answer my question now?”

She wet her lips again, her mouth dry. “Yes.”

He searched her eyes with his dark gaze, the attraction between them buzzing. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Claire’s breath escaped her lips at his question. She knew her longing was written plainly across her face—just as she knew that Liam had asked the question out of respect for her own desires.

So how could she respond? If she lied, he would step away in an instant. But if she told him the truth…