My mouth is suddenly dry. I lick my lips. “B-But you said I… I looked like a Bitmoji throwing a tant—”
Zach shrugs, wrapping his arms full around me again. “What can I say? Bitmojis are cute.”
I nearly choke.“What?”
Smiling down at me, he starts swaying us from side to side. “You had on those square-framed glasses that you only put on at night—fucking sexy librarian glasses, by the way.” Heat flickers in his flame-hazel eyes. “And even though your hair was pinned up, it was like your curls still couldn’t be tamed.” His gaze sweeps the top of my head. “There’s always this little halo of whisps, even when you have your hair pulled back. I wanted to touch them to see if they were real.”
Zach palms the back of my head until his grip lands on my hair tie. Then he wraps my curly ponytail around his hand and tugs gently.
The sensation zings straight to my clit.
He shakes his head, looking at me like it’s useless. “So, no. My feelings for you haven’t changed. Only grown to the point that I couldn’t fight them anymore.”
“Zach—” His name is little more than wet breath. It’s like my heart is in a drag race.
Now would be the perfect time for a sneak-attack kiss. Except I’m expecting it, and I think Zach gets a rush out of surprising me. Keeping me on my toes. Which is why he loves to fake me out a couple of times a day before laying it on me.
But before he can fake me out or attack me or simply let go, I rise up on my toes and slam my mouth against his.
His hissed breath tells me he definitely didn’t see it coming.
He makes a sound that rumbles from his chest, and the hand that’s tangled in my ponytail tugs my head back a little more.
I could open my mouth. It would be all too easy. It’s what I want to do.
But I drop to my heels, breaking the kiss instead.
Zach blinks down at me in stunned confusion.
“That doesn’t count,” I say.
“What doesn’t count?”
“That’s not our sneak-attack kiss.”
He tucks his chin and eyes me warily. “Sneak-attack kiss?”
I scoff. “Don’t act like you have no idea what I’m talking about.”
He blinks again. “Greta, I have no idea what you are talking about.”
My face goes hot. Why does that embarrass me? “Okay, so what would you call it?”
“What would I call what?”
Itskin irritation. “The once-daily sneak attack kiss that you plot to jump me with when I’m least expecting it.”
Zach’s smile flashes. “Greta, baby, there’s no plot. That only happens when I lose control.”
Thatwhooshingsound? That’s my breath leaving my lungs in a big, fat rush.
Because the thought of Zach losing controlover meis smokin’ hot.
And my shock at his admission is clearly amusing to him because his smile is wicked.
“So are you still worried about what would happen if we broke up?”
Wait. Is that how all this started?
