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“Like—” I started.
“I’ve got it,” he cut me off and snapped his fingers. “I bet I can give you amnesia.”
“Noooo.” I folded my arms. “You’ve told a lot of whoppers in your life—including telling my mother you were a straight-A student—but that’s got to be the biggest.”
“No, really. I can give you amnesia.” He flexed his fingers like a magician.
I tilted my head and gave him a considering look. “Ridiculous. If you gave me amnesia, I wouldn’t be able to remember anything to even know that it had worked.”
“Good point.” He put a hand to his chin and seemed to think about it. “I’ll make you forget one word then. Just one. So when you try to think of it, there’ll be a blank space, and you’ll know it worked.”
“Okay.”
A giddiness stole into his eyes. “Okay? Really? You’re really up for it?”
“This doesn’t involve brain surgery, does it? No? Okay, I’m in. Proceed.” I waved my hand in a flourish.
He leaned forward. I leaned forward. He kissed me.
His arms wrapped around my back, flattening me against his body instead of the wall. His lips pressed against mine in a toe-curling clench that traveled every inch of my being and settled in my soul. Passion trailed fire along every point where his skin touched mine.
I met his passion with my own—tasting the sweet red wine on his tongue, my belly seizing in a delicious exhilaration of need, my hunger for him absorbing every touch, every breath, every nuance of detail.
He pulled away. I sucked in a breath, suddenly cold with these new inches between us.
“What’s your boyfriend’s name?”
“What?” Dazed, I tipped my chin up and blinked at him, my hands still on his arms, my toes only beginning to uncurl.
His smile was as triumphant as it was sad.
“See?” he said. “Amnesia.”
Chapter Fifteen
I’m never speaking to him again,” I said as I stomped through Isla’s house Friday morning, following her to the kitchen. I could have just called her to talk about Josh and what had happened last night, but I’d barely slept and I had too much raging energy. I thought three trains and a bus would put some distance between me and my sheer screaming frustration with the man, but they hadn’t.
“Whoa. Hold on there.” Isla threw a hand out to stop me in my tracks. “First things first. Coffee?”
I blew out a breath and unclenched my fists. “Yes, please.”
“Good. Just a sec.” Isla loaded a K-cup into the Keurig, and I moved a painting off a kitchen chair so I could sit. I hesitated when I saw paint splatters covering the seat, but I told myself they were old and just sat down.
Once Isla had made a cup of coffee for me and another for herself, she moved a box of supplies and sat across from me. “Now what’s all this about? You hate Josh? Still?”
“Well, kind of. But also I hate him in a brand-new way.”
“Why?”
“Because he kissed me!”
She dropped her spoon. “He kissed you for real? Like, for really real?”
I held up my right hand like I was taking an oath. “For really real. We kissedhard.”
She whistled. “Okay, this is big.”
“I know! That’s why I’m here.”
