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His smile widens, his fingers tracing over my rib cage, and I swear my back arches into his touch. I’m fixated on those traveling fingers of his.
“How many people were signed up for your class?”
I deflate with the question.
“A dozen,” I answer, knowing I could never disappoint that many people.
As much as I’d like to stay in bed with him, getting tangled in his sheets for hours and hours, I know I can’t. I’m too responsible for that, too much of a people pleaser. Most days, I don’t hate that aspect of my personality, but being considerate of others seems more like a flaw than a redeemable quality right now.
His chuckle grabs ahold of me, preventing me from standing fully as I attempt to climb past him.
“You’ll trip over that lip,” he says, his hand brushing over my face.
Before my body understands what he’s doing, he clamps my chin between his thumb and forefinger so he can guide my mouth to his.
The kiss is patient and slow, giving me the chance for my brain and body to get on the same wavelength.
I grant his tongue entrance the second he presses it forward. A surge of arousal hits me like a tsunami when he groans, the vibration moving through me like an electrical current.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I attempt to settle on to him, my body aching with need as much as it’s aching from the time we’ve spent together this last week.
“That’s dangerous,” he says, his lips brushing mine as he speaks. “We’ll never leave this room.”
He grips my hips, moving me to stand rather than letting me straddle his legs.
I know it isn’t meant as a rejection, but you’d never be able to convince my body that it isn’t.
“I’m supposed to be the reasonable one,” I say, that pout he mentioned earlier growing.
He brushes his thumb over my cheek before pressing a too-chaste kiss to my lips as he stands.
“We’ll see each other soon,” he promises. “You’re already going to be late.”
I glance over his shoulder at the clock on his bedside table, that feeling of dread settling inside of me. Worry threatens to take over.
“Nope,” he tells me, his finger curling under my chin and directing me to look at him. “You’re not going to freak out.You’re going to go grab a quick shower. You keep a change of clothes at the bakery for situations like this.”
I scoff.
“I keep clothes at the bakery in case of a baking mishap. I do not keep clothes there because I woke up late after spending the night with…” I swallow, not sure what to call him at first. “My friend.”
His cheek twitches, but before I can evaluate what it means, he gives me another one of his charming smiles.
“Shower. I have a bag of powdered donuts waiting for you to snack on during your drive to the bakery.”
I do as I’m instructed, but as much as I tried to use mind control to pull him into the shower with me, Cash stayed away, only sliding past me for his own shower after I was dried and fully dressed in last night’s clothing.
I can’t recall a single time I’ve ever felt awkward leaving his house, but my eyes are darting up and down the street, trying to see if his nosy neighbors are peeking at me from behind their sheer curtains as I climb into my car.
There’s honestly nothing I can do about it now. If someone spots me, I have no doubt either one of my parents or one of my brothers will call me before I make it to the bakery.
My phone remains silent, but I know my whereabouts will not go without explanation the second I turn onto Main Street and see Madison standing outside of her car.
Her smile is wide and knowing when I park and climb out of my car and face her.
I don’t say a word. I simply walk toward the front door of my bakery with my keys in hand and start to count in my head.
I make it to nine before she speaks up.
