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My heart went boom as Tom cupped my cheek and gently sucked on my bottom lip. My grip tightened on his arm as I moaned, and he did it again.
And then suddenly, we were apart. I swayed on my toes, and Tom let go of my face and steadied me by my shoulders, dazedly staring at my lips.
“You’re still a princess,” he murmured.
How such a line turned my insides into jelly.
Tom then shook his head, letting go of my shoulders and ran a hand through his hair. “I really want to kiss you again but … we shouldn’t.”
He wanted to kiss me again!
“Amanda.” My stomach turned cold.
“Yeah. But I don’t regret our kiss one bit.”
“No.” One little itty bitty word sounded like a moan for more than agreeing to stop. “And we’re neighbours—”
“And friends. Good friends. Right?” Tom’s face was so serious, so earnest.
“Of course.”
“Good. Great.”
A couple of lads spilled out of the function room and barrelled over to us, inviting us for kick-on drinks at the pub in Ballydoon. We didn’t speak of our kiss on the drive there.
At the pub, we claimed several tables, and then I went to order drinks. Several people congratulated Tom on receiving the Most Valuable Player award, but his eyes were on a guy who’d approached me.
The guy had a greasy smile and wandering eyes, and I dismissed easily enough and said goodbye. Tom joined me at the bar.
“Who was that?” His tone was calm and casual but his eyes said another thing entirely.
“Oh, um, just a friend.” Tom said nothing, and I frowned. “Really, he’s just a friend.”
“He wants you,” Tom blurted out.
I snorted. “Well, I don’t want him.”
“Okay.” Tom sucked on his bottom lip, his brow furrowed in thought.
“I’d kind of hoped he wasn’t into me.”
Tom managed a smile. “Yeah, it was obvious he was into you. Every guy tonight is staring at you in that dress.”
I ran my fingers through my hair in an attempt to tame my wild curls. “I need a drink.”
Tom held up a hand. “On me, same again?”
“Sounds good, thanks.” I smiled. “You’re such a good friend.”
Friend.
We stared at each other for a long moment. Why did that word now feel like an insult?
Which was dumb. Being a friend wasn’t a lower tier of a relationship with Tom.
“Ever since you turned up at my family birthday dinner in that green dress and with flowers in your hair,” Tom said in a low voice, leaning in closer. “I haven’t thought of you as a friend.”
I was so close to him now with the jostling crowd that my breast rubbed against his arm, his leg against mine. I felt like a livewire, everything lit up. I held his gaze and licked my lips.
