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“Yeah.”
“Well, Danielle asked me to give a tour of the school—”
“Fast forward to the lip-lock please.”
“It all plays a part of it. This whole damn year plays a part in it. Every time I turn around, there he is, looking seven different kinds of sexy and smelling better than anybody has a right to,” I grumble.
I may have stood a chance of keeping him in the past—if I’d been able to keep my distance.
“You kissed him on the tour? Was Brian there?”
“No, not on the tour. At the reunion dinner. Well, after the dinner part. Yeah. He was there.”
“Did he see? Is that why you two broke up?”
“No, he didn’t see. We were in the ballroom and a song came on. Mine and Shep’s…”
“What song?” she asks.
“Why does it matter?”
“I’m trying to set the scene. Living vicariously through you.”
“Why do you need to do that? You’re married and have two beautiful babies.”
“We’ll talk about me later. What song?”
She’s not going to get away with avoiding the question, but I humor her.
“‘Don’t You Wanna Stay’ by Jason Aldean and Kelly Clarkson.”
“Awww. I love that song.”
“So the song comes on and I’m looking around and wondering if he remembers it, and his eyes meet mine and I justknow. He remembered it. And knowing that? I just—I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I could do was feel. And then all I wanted to do was run away from all those feelings—I had to get out of there. I left and went to the bathroom, and one minute I’m lecturing myself at the sink and the next I glance up and he’s there.”
“What did he do?”
“Nothing. Not really anyway. He said he wanted to talk, and we basically started to argue. He has this way of getting all growly when he’s worked up…”
How many times had that growl vibrated against my ear as he came? Or against my inner thigh when he—
“And you decided to kiss him?” she asks, interrupting my journey down memory lane.
Maybe more like Memory Highway since that bitch has been wide open since the kiss last week. Road closed, my ass.
“It’s not like I decided. Not really. One second we were arguing and the next…we weren’t.”
“Because you were kissing his face off.”
I giggle at her description.
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“What would you say?”
The way his lips had molded to mine, the way his fingers gripped my hips, there isn’t a word to describe it. Not one I know of at least.
“I–I’m not sure.”
