Page 66 of Touch of Class

She blew out a heavy breath, not wanting to admit to that part. “She checked consent.”

He smiled. “Of course she did. What a gem.”

Daphne rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t quite write off the endearing earnestness of that moment. “Then she kissed me.”

“And?”

“And what?”

He threw a piece of popcorn at her. “What was it like?”

She managed to hold a neutral kind of posture for all of three seconds before dissolving again. It was like every bone in her body turned to jelly, and she flopped over the steering wheel again.

He gasped. “She wrecked you.”

Daphne didn’t see any need to deny it. They were having this conversation because she couldn’t think and walk at the same time.

“You fucked around and found out with the high-school-archnemesis-turned-office-archnemesis. How delicious.”

“You don’t have to enjoy this quite so much.”

He laughed. “Why not? You did.”

Again, she had no argument.

“She was good?”

“So good,” Daphne admitted. “I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s good at everything. I’ll just add kissing me to the very long list of things Gillian has apparently perfected.”

“Perfected?”

She shrugged and tried to think of a more toe-curling, mind-melting, body-burning first kiss. All her synapses were still overloaded, so maybe she was missing something, but she couldn’t think of a better example. “First kisses are supposed to be a little awkward. I mean they’re good because they’re new and exciting and full of promise, but this one shouldn’t have been any of those things. She didn’t sell it at all. There was no foreplay.”

“Except for the twenty-two years of anticipation since the initial attempt.”

“Which should’ve made it all the more uncomfortable. She kept talking about ‘reauthoring trauma,’ which should be the least sexy lead-up ever.”

He snorted softly. “The worst pickup line in history, which only makes it all the more impressive she made you go boneless in the aftermath.”

Daphne groaned. “I hate this about her. She always does this.”

“Always does what?” Hugh cackled. “Kisses you senseless?”

“Exceeds expectations. Just once I want her to be worse at something meaningful than everyone thinks she’d be.”

“I hope it’s not the first time you two have sex.”

That got her to sit back up. “We’re not going to have sex.”

“Why not?”

“Because, because … all the reasons. Every reason in the world.”

He laughed even harder. “Except for the fact that she’s perfect and you like kissing her and you two have pent-up tension, and now that you’ve got a taste of those sweet lips, you’ll want a taste of her—”

“—Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” She found a bit more fortitude. “I’m not going to sleep with Gillian DeGarmo. We work together. I have a job I love and a family to focus on, and at least a hint of self-respect. Not to mention the two of us would end up killing each other eventually, and I do not look good in prison-jumpsuit orange.”

He seemed to at least accept the last argument. “Not with that olive skin tone of yours.”