Page 44 of The Quirky Vet

"I'm not everyone," he shoots back, then adds, "We'renot everyone."

I hear the conviction in his voice, and I can tell he truly believes every word. But we're playing with something bigger than our best intentions. Neither one of us wants to jeopardise our friendship, but what if we do something that we aren't able to walk back and recover from?

What then?

Fitz's friendship means everything to me. I'd be crushed if I ever lost it.

Losthim.

So why does kissing him feel so damn right? Why does it fill me with a sense of connection that I never felt with Maisey? Or Nikki? Or Blake? Or any of the other women I've dated over the years?

"Words, Muir," he encourages delicately. "Use your words. I can see you lost in thought."

"Understatement," I say, and he smiles with an understanding only he could have because only he knows me, almost as well as I know myself.

"I know one thing for sure," I say.

"What's that?"

"Kissing you feels so damn right. Better than anyone else I've ever kissed. And I'm not just saying that to stroke your ego."

He lifts his chin and opens his mouth. I just said the wordstroke, so I'm expecting some joke about that, but instead, I get, "You're my favourite kisser, too."

I smile like that makes me deliriously happy.

Because it does.

"So," I say. "Maybe we can keep kissing, keep enjoying whatever this is, and just…take it from here?"

He flashes me a toothy grin. "Smartest thing I've heard you say all day. Now come on." He slaps his thighs and hauls himself off the ground. "We're almost done. Let's get back to work."

He extends his hand, and I slip my palm into his. With a firm tug, he helps me get up. He must've applied a bit too much pressure, though, because I end up crashing into him. Our chests connect, and I can feel his heart thumping.

I go to step back, but strong hands against my lower back halt the movement. His light-brown eyes flash with heat as he licks his lips. Heat prickles up the back of my neck, and I get a little dizzy.

We may have kissed a few times already, but I'm still getting used to the pre-kiss anticipation. The comforting warmth—a heady mixture of excitement and nerves—that floods my body as we inch closer and closer to that glorious moment where our lips finally meet. I've never experienced anything like this before.

"Thanks for your help today," I blurt out stupidly because I have no idea what to say.

Fitz grins, but the intensity in his eyes doesn't diminish onedamn bit. "Don't mention it. You help me out all the time with editing the videos."

"That's because I enjoy it."

He pulls me in ever closer, his breath fanning my face as he says, "Well, I enjoy this. Being outside. Physical labour. Company's not too shabby either."

"Oh, yeah?"

He tips his chin up, eyes glimmering in the sunshine. "Yeah."

When we kiss, some of the doubt and worry that has moved into the back of my head gets smaller.

We may not know what we're doing or where we're going, but Fitz is right. This is us, and I'm going to do everything I can to make sure we don't fuck things up.

"Help! Somebody help! Please!"

A woman's panicked screams carry all the way to the back of the clinic.

Fitz springs off the sofa where he was scrolling on his phone, and I drop my teacup in such a rush it nearly shatters.