Page 98 of The Fast Lane

“Open your eyes,” he said quietly. He’d moved closer, close enough that I could feel his words on my skin, and I shuddered.

Swallowing the lump of pure, unadulterated fear in my stomach, I did as he asked. His hands hovering over my shoulders like he wanted to touch me but wasn’t sure he should.

“I said some embarrassing things last night. And while I remember every single word, I was a little tipsy, so it wasn’t like I was serious.”

A corner of his mouth hitched. He could see right through me. “Have you been drinking this morning?”

“No.”

“So, say it again.”

“Say what?”

“Say you want me to kiss you again.”

I sucked in a breath. “Why?”

His hands curled around my shoulders. Goosebumps exploded over my skin as they traveled from there slowly up my neck. “Because I want to kiss you. But I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

One of his thumbs traced the line of my jaw and it was getting hard to think. I should ask questions. Like, what does it mean if we kiss? That was a pretty big question that needed a pretty big answer but as I stared up into those blue, blue eyes, nothing mattered. I’d worry about the consequences later.

“I really want you to kiss me,” I whispered.

FORTY-ONE

Note to self:

Pretending like everything is fine is my fatal flaw.

That first kiss was tender, a million feelings packed into one little chaste brush of our lips. He placed that first one right on the center of my mouth. Then on each corner. The tip of my nose. My eyelids, and that tickled a little and made me smile. But every kiss felt reverent, like he had been given a gift and he was going to unwrap it slowly and savor it.

Tentatively, I rested my hands on his chest where his heart thumped as rapidly as mine. He was solid and warm through his t-shirt, and I wanted to sink into it. I ran a hand up to his head and into his hair. The curls were softer than I expected, and I made a little sound of approval.

He grew bolder. A nibble on my bottom lip made me gasp and he deepened the kiss. His hand, low on my back, pulled me closer until there was only room left to do much more than breathe and I was only doing that sparingly.

You know when you’re a kid and you wanted something so badly, you begged, pleaded, dreamed, wished, and hoped for it? But when you finally got it, you’d built it up so much in your mind, that the reality of it wasn’t nearly as good as what was in your head.

This was not that.

This, I couldn’t have dreamed up because nothing had ever felt so right, like coming home. With a groan, Theo pulled away and rested his forehead on mine, his breaths coming fast and erratic.

“Can we do that again?” I asked.

He laughed and cupped my face. This kiss started languid and slow and made all my insides pool at my feet. But not for long. He shuffled forward until I was forced to inch back or fall. My back hit the wall. One of his hands slid down to my hip, finding the strip of skin between my shorts and t-shirt and stroking. My whole body went hot and cold and then hot again.

Theo pulled away and rested his forehead on the wall by my head. Most of his body pinned me to the wall and I slumped there, too weak-kneed and in such a Theo-induced coma to even think about moving.

I did try to talk. Sort of. “I, you, we…”

His shoulders shook.

“You are not laughing right now.”

He turned his head, smiling broadly. “That was one way to make you forget you were mad at me. I’ll remember that.”

I slugged him in the arm, pushed off the wall, and wandered across the room. I wished I could laugh, but instead of savoring the best kiss of my life, an unease settled in my chest. It must have been written on my face because when I turned around, Theo frowned and moved toward me.

“What’s wrong?”