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One kiss.
That’s all.
Just one little peck won’t hurt, right?
I part my lips until our tongues meet midway and intertwine. With a slow and tantalizing pace, our lips move in sync, and the taste of him melts away at my body, reacting instantly.
My hands mimic his and find their way to his chiseled cheekbones. We continue to kiss like this for what feels like forever, and much like high school, my jaw starts to get sore. With a final moan, we both slow the pace and pull away simultaneously.
I look directly at his pants, a bad move since he’s obviously hard.
We catch our breath, and suddenly, feeling shy, I struggle to look into his eyes, avoiding them until it’s impossible. Everything I see there is filled with forbidden feelings—lust, sex, desire, and maybe traces of something deeper. The silence deepens, and neither of us say a word for what feels like minutes.
“See, it was just a kiss,” he insists, adjusting his pants.
“Yep, just a kiss. A kiss that will never happen again.”
“Never ever happen again. And that was the point I was trying to prove.”
I turn to face him, and with curiosity, I ask, “You had a point to prove?”
“Yes,” he quietly chokes. “The awkward part is over. No more curiosity. So, now we can be normal… be friends.”
What planet is he on? Not the same horny planet I’m on, that’s for sure.
“Okay, so we can be friends,” I say, unsure.
“Great.” He claps his hands, surprising me. “So, what are you up to this weekend?”
Really? We both just had the most intense kiss ever, and now this is what we are discussing? It’s such a bizarre reaction.
“Just shopping for last-minute stuff for the baby, and that’s about it. You?”
“Before I forget, my mom wants to meet you. Well, she’s been begging to meet you since I told her, but I think now’s the time.”
“Okay…”
“David wants me in L.A. next month for three weeks to manage the office while the senior editor is having an operation.”
“David? Oh! Mr. Sadler, right?”
“Then, I’ll be spending a week in Vegas for my bachelor party,” he adds.
Whoa, rewind. Again, he gives me the most intense kiss only to tell me he’s going to party all week and probably get laid by a stripper.
My blood rises, and that unusual bout of jealousy is consuming me. I stare at my feet, trying to control these fucked-up feelings. Don’t say anything, just keep it to yourself.
“Strippers? Weren’t you the one who told me about fucking them or something?”
He smiles softly and raises his hand to stroke my cheek. “I’d never do that to you.”
My eyes dart to his, and he is seemingly unaware of the words he’s just spoken.
“Don’t you mean Eloise?”
His grin disappears, and suddenly he looks agitated. “Yes, I meant Eloise.”
Silence falls between us, and when no more words are left to be said, I realize my feelings need a massive reality check.
