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“You’re my best friend,” I said by way of answer.
“So?” She shrugged. “What if I wasn’t?”
I swallowed hard, stopping my retreat.
“See, you’re all talk. Is winning at everything that important to you?”
“No,” I said. “It’s not about winning. I’m being serious.”
She looked like she didn’t buy it for a second. “Fine,” she said. “If you’re so serious about dealing with crossing lines, then pretend I’m not your assistant. Pretend I’m not your best friend.”
My eyes widened, the blood in my veins running hot.
“You don’t want that,” I said.
“Maybe I do,” she said. “Maybe I’d love to see you be wrong about something just once.”
“But I wouldn’t be wrong,” I said. “Because I have a million lines when it comes to you, and crossing any one of them is unacceptable.”
Shock fluttered through her eyes, her pink lips parting open just enough for me to hear her gasp.
“Pretend,” she said, the word almost a whisper. The tension between us was like a snare drum ready to bust. “Pretend those lines don’t exist. Just this once.”
“Brynn,” I said, practically begging her to take it back. To save us both because I sure as hell wasn’t strong enough.
She blinked a few times, hurt and rejection swirling in her irises in a way that crushed me. “It’s fine,” she said, attempting to get back to the humor we’d danced with earlier. “I know you’re just trying to prove a point. It has nothing to do with me.”
“It has everything to do with you,” I said, stepping back into her space. I slid a hand over her cheek, cupping her face. “Ask me again.”
“What?”
“Ask me again,” I demanded.
Electricity crackled between us as she held my gaze, as she kept us suspended in this moment.
“Pretend,” she said. “Just this once. I want you to pretend—”
I leaned down, brushing my lips over hers in an almost chaste kiss. Fuck, her lips were soft as they met mine.
She wanted me to pretend like my lines didn’t exist with her for just this once? Then I sure as hell wasn’t going to waste it.
I kissed her again, slowly, languidly, as if I had all the time in the world to study the curve of her lips.
“Wes,” she sighed against my mouth, stepping closer until our bodies were flush. She fisted my shirt in her hands, holding me there as she reached up on her tiptoes. “Again.”
Lava streaked through my veins at her demand, at the lust hazing her eyes like she was starved for me.
“Fuck,” I groaned, folding my arms around her and lifting her off her feet at the same time I slanted my mouth over hers again.
She whimpered, opening for me as I walked us back to her desk until I sat her on it and stepped between her thighs, barely breaking our kiss.
Our mouths crashed against each other, reckless and frenzied with a decade’s worth of tension mounting between it. I tunneled my fingers into the silken strands of her hair, tipping her head back so I could sweep my tongue into her mouth at a better angle.
She tasted like mint and honey from that tea she loved, and I decided there was no better flavor in the entire world as I licked into her mouth. She met me and then some, locking her ankles behind my back while drawing me closer, rubbing her tongue against mine in sweet little flicks that had every nerve ending in my body standing at attention.
Fuck, the reality was better than any fantasy I’d ever dreamed up when it came to her, and I’d had years to imagine what it would be like to kiss her.
Kissing Brynn was like the biggest revelation with a side of awakening. I would live for this kiss. No, fuck that, I’d kill for it.
