Page 17 of The Best Shot

No smile now. No joke either. “Why not?”

I didn’t have an answer for that. Or I had several, and none of them felt relevant.

I’d always known Hale was attractive. That was old news, something filed away like the height of a mountain you weren’t planning to climb.

But this.

This closeness. This… awareness was new. The way his eyes had gone dark and steady on my face, like he was waiting to see whether I’d run or lean in.

The already quiet room got quieter.

“Yasmine,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want me to help you with your dry spell?”

“No,” I said too fast, laughing to play it off. “Of course not.”

Instead of laughing with me, he gave one slow, knowing nod. “Okay, darlin’.”

The words settled low in my stomach. My eyes dropped to his hands, wrapped loosely around the bottle, thumb dragging along the condensation. They were wide. Strong.

“What—” I cleared my throat. “What would that even look like… exactly?”

“What would you like it to look like?”

My mind emptied.

“I could get you off with my fingers,” he said. “With my mouth.” His eyes dropped to my lips, then back up. “Or if you need more than that…”

My pulse kicked hard enough to make my ears ring. I licked my lips, opened my mouth.

And nothing came out.

He took pity on me and set his bottle aside, moving in. Close enough that I felt his heat. Close enough to see the pulse jumping in his throat.

“How about this,” he murmured. “I kiss you. You want me to stop, you say so. Simple.”

I should’ve shut it down. Should have said Hale in the tone I used when he was being ridiculous. Found the version of myself from three hours ago who was certain this was just wine.

Instead I nodded.

His hand came up to my jaw, thumb brushing across my cheek. A question in the touch.

I held still, heart hammering. Then he leaned in and kissed me. Soft at first. Testing. Warm and slow and tasting faintly like beer. He gave me room to pull back.

I didn’t.

I leaned into it instead.

The kiss deepened. His hand slid into my hair and I made a soft sound that would have embarrassed me if I’d had a single thought left to spare. He smiled against my mouth, then kissed me harder.

My hands found his shirt, fisted in the fabric, pulling him closer. His mouth, his hands, the weight of him. This was exactly what I’d been missing.

He pulled back just enough to look at me. “Still okay?”

I nodded, breathless.