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The urge to make out with him right this instant isstrong.
After I get our sour Skittles, I put my hands on my hips and turn to him again. My face is a mask of seriousness. I’m a researcher conducting a science experiment that could impact all humanity. “Cheddar and sour cream RufflesorCool Ranch Doritos?”
Cole scoffs like,No way, man, but he doesn’t back down from the challenge. “All right. One ... two ... three—”
“Cheddar—” we begin in unison.
Oh my god, is this what it feels like to fall in love?
I swear he sways toward me like he’s feeling it too. His nostrils flare. His eyes glaze over with a sultry heat.
We’re going to kiss right here in front of this vending machine while getting slightly high off construction-site paint fumes. I can almost imagine it. As soon as our mouths make contact, I’ll drop the candy and he’ll grab my waist, hoisting me up against the glass, incensed and impatient. My lips will part, and his tongue will slip in so easily to find mine. I’ll whimper like I’m aching for him because, in fact, I am.
We’ll be complete animals.
It’s so close to happening, and then a burly construction worker pushes past the crinkly plastic tarp I hadn’t even noticed. “Hey!You two shouldn’t be here.”
I scream.
Are weactuallyin trouble? No.
Do we take off in a dead sprint like two delinquent teenagers anyway? Absolutely.
“Stairs! Stairs!” Cole commands, taking my hand and tugging me along when I start to fall behind. I didn’t wear the right footwear for a quick getaway. My sandal strap keeps coming undone!
I can’t control my laughter as Cole throws the stairwell door open and drags me in after him. We make it down to the eleventh-floor landing, and then, “The Skittles!”
They just slipped from my hands.
“Damn it, Young, we don’t have time for this!” Cole says, as invested in the pseudoaction as I am.
That construction worker is up there scratching his balls, totally unbothered by us, but we don’t care. We’re fleeing for our lives. Cole runs back to pick up the Skittles, gets a firm grasp on my hand, and down we go, floor after floor, until we make it all the way back to our room.
Bonnie and Clyde have nothing on us as we slam the door closed and double bolt it. With relieved sighs, we flatten ourselves against thedoor and start to catch our breath. My heart’s still racing when I slowly turn to face him. He turns to face me.
We don’t say a word. We stare at each other, our eyes roaming with hungry abandon as we try to regain our composure.
Adrenaline’s coursing through me like I’ve been hooked up to an IV filled with it. It’s the same for Cole. I can see it in the way his pulse jumps in his neck. There’s a spark in his brown eyes that seems to charge the moment with a dangerous edge. I realize now why couples are always making out at the end of action movies. Tom Hanks has just found Jesus’s long-lost goblet, and now all he wants to do is suck face with the female archaeologist who helped him dig it up. I’ve always thought it was a little dumb, but now Igetit. Sprinting from the authorities really gets your heart going. Everything is pulsing and alive, and I’m not sure Cole has ever looked hotter than he does right now.
I want to do something crazy: tangle my fingers in his hair, kiss up the side of his neck, wrap my legs around him and ...
“Say something,” he says with a gentle plea. Meanwhile, his attention is zeroed in on my lips like he wishes he could taste them.
I wet the bottom one, and it’s like he can feel it too.
“I can’t.”
His eyebrows furrow in despair.
“Are you hurt?” he asks, his tone now filled with mock gravity. He’s worried he missed a gunshot wound to the abdomen back there: I’ve been slowly bleeding out this whole time without him realizing. Our happy ending won’t come after all. Roll credits.
He pushes off the door and turns to cage me in against it. I laugh as he pats me down like he’s checking for wounds. His hands slide gently over the sides of my chest and stomach. It’s playful and silly, but it’s also extremely hot. The edge of his thumb accidentally brushes the underside of my breast. His hand finds a spot on the side of my rib cage that isn’t ticklish, it’ssexy. A moan nearly sneaks past my lips before I bite down, stifling it.
I’m not supposed to be majorly turned on, but soon, I’m panting for reasons that have nothing to do with our sprint back to our room.
His hands freeze on my waist, and he bends so his gaze can find mine. His expression turns knowing as he recognizes what he’s doing to me.Howdoes he know, exactly? Beats me. Maybe I’m drooling a little. Maybe my pheromones are wafting off me in great cloying plumes.
I’m too on display, with him looking at me like this.
