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“How long is that exactly? I’m not just going to live some indefinite lie with no expiration date when it’s your problem.” While he’s bewildered by my outburst, I wriggle away to pace. “A year? Three years? What about college? What—will it still be going on when we’re in our twenties, and we’ll be faking a marriage and two point five kids? And—”
Connor catches me around the waist, clapping a big hand over my mouth. His gray eyes are full of fascinated exasperation.
“Jesus. Are you some kind of wind up toy?” He removes his hand carefully, like he’s worried I’ll get started again. “What the fuck was all that?”
It’s like I blink back to reality, once he interrupted the flow. My panic has faded in the shock of him grabbing me. I almost smile. Until I remember why we’re here.
“I babble when I’m nervous.” Folding my arms, I shrug. He steps back. “Seriously, Connor. I’m not blindly playing along without an end date. You can’t keep using your leverage over me to keep me in line forever.”
Connor rubs his chin, studying me. I can see the gears in his head turning. “Until graduation, then. We’ll part on friendly terms as we prepare to go to college.”
“That’s it? Then you’ll leave me alone and delete my photos?”
He smirks. “I don’t get a parting gift for when I’m lonely at night?”
“Connor!”
An amused sound huffs out of him as he blocks my swatting hands, catching my wrists in his grasp. “All right, yeah. Fair. Although, little mouse, let me offer you some advice. Never trust anyone who has dirt on you. There’s always an extra copy.”
“Do you have extra copies?”
“Of course. Cloud backups.” He taps my nose. “You can smash my phone and I’ll still own you.”
Biting my lip, I skate my gaze away. “So do I have to meet your parents? Are you going to meet mine?” I gulp the lump forming in my throat. “Look, I’ve—I’ve never had a real—”
I gasp. Crap. I wasn’t planning on saying it, but then before I was aware, it was half out. Too late now. It’s difficult to continue.
Closing my eyes, my words burst out of me all at once. “I’ve never had a relationship before, okay? I don’t know what I’m doing here. If I’m going to do it with you, we need to outline every expectation, or I’ll suck at this.”
Silence follows my awkward admission. I crack my eyes open, wary of peeking.
Connor has his lips pulled to one side as he considers me. He reaches out, tangling his fingers with mine, playing with my hand. My breath turns shallow as he drags his finger over my knuckles. It feels nice.
“Not yet,” he says, watching my reactions while he touches me. The soft caresses get my heart beating erratically. Whatever he sees makes him nod. “We’ll take it slow. With the way you were texting me, I thought…never mind.” His expression turns curious and calculating. “Have you ever been kissed?”
I shake my head, breath hitching.
He hums and cradles my face with both hands. “Do you want to be kissed?”
The timbre of his voice curls around me. I can’t believe I ever brushed it off because I thought I was talking to Wyatt. The answer was right in front of me all along. Connor didn’t modify his voice to hide it.
That deep voice does things I don’t understand to my insides. It’s the same tone he always used on the phone. The dark, sensual voice of my dreams.
Do I? My throat constricts. It will be my first. Connor will rob me of all my real firsts with this fake relationship.
My lashes flutter as his thumbs glide over my cheeks. He doesn’t stop. The rich sandalwood and spicy scent wraps around me as he steps closer, angling his face toward mine.
This is crazy. I should still be angry with him for yesterday, even with the apology I can’t get over how he made me feel overnight—being the person both behind my soaring heart and the one to send it crash landing into the ground.
But his touch is so soft and gentle. I picture how his lips might feel on mine and an ache tugs in my chest. I do want it.
“I—yes. But I don’t want it to be fake.”
Those gray eyes trap me for a long beat. I think he’s going to kiss me anyway as his breath fans over my lips. My whole body feels alive, calling out for him.
Then he eases out of my space, back to business in a cool, collected tone. “No kissing. Okay. What about other PDA? It’ll be hard to convince people we’re suddenly together if I can’t act like your boyfriend. Can I still text you?”
I’m dizzy from the almost-kiss not happening. “Like holding hands? That’s fine. Um. I don’t know about texting. I didn’t know it was you. Obviously.”
