Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
There’s a little walking path we stick to. The park is pretty much big enough for a five-minute jaunt in either direction, so I know I don’t have a lot of time before we reach the end and turn around to head back toward the car.
“Emily—”
“Asher—”
She turns to me at the same time as I turn to her, and our names come out in unison. However, before I can say anything, she’s already speaking, her words tumbling out.
“I know I’m not, well, the kind of woman you usually date. I know I’m not tall, and I’m not exceptionally pretty. I’m not even that smart. I mean, I have two degrees, but neither of them involves having some kind of designation behind my name. I’m not famous, I’ve also hardly ever left St. Louis, and I have a regular life. A boring life. I’m actually so…so defunct that my last boyfriend, well, you know what he did, and—”
I can’t stand to hear the nonsense she’s saying. She’s saying these things about herself though I know she can’t possibly believe them. It’s like she’s making apologies to me for being who she is when everything about her is perfect, and even if it’s not, she doesn’t have to apologize for any of it.
I know there are zero words she’s going to listen to at this point. I also know her eyes are huge and enchanting, her lips are parted at just the perfect angle, the sun is setting behind us, streaking the sky with a bunch of lovely colors, the park is peaceful and quiet, and there’s an undercurrent of something inexplicable in the air. It might be the smell of the trees or some random exhaust fumes, but it sure as heck isn’t taco gas. Whatever it is, it feels right, and I just go for it.
I cut her off mid-sentence by gently cupping her face, lowering mine, and claiming her mouth. At the first taste of her lips, my whole body erupts in flames. The fire is similar to the first time she kissed me, but this time, I’m not taken off guard. This is intentional. Goosebumps prickle the skin of my arms, and all the fine hairs there stand on end. Something else stands on end too, but I make sure to angle the lower half of my body away from her.
She makes a noise at the back of her throat, which I swallow. Her lips are warm and alive against mine even though she doesn’t respond to the kiss. I happen to have a thing for strawberries, which is exactly what she tastes like. Sweet. A delicious explosion that tantalizes my tongue even though I haven’t made good use of it yet. Her hands come up and press against my chest, and my thin t-shirt stands no chance of keeping out the heat of her touch. Now it’s me that’s making a noise.
“I can’t!” Emily rips away, and she backs up a few feet, her chest heaving. “I mean, we can’t! It’s…that’s not in the rules!”
I’m aware someone could be watching us right now, and I think she is too, so I step closer, shielding her from view. It’s not hard because I’m just about twice her size. I lean in like we’re having an intimate moment again and set my hand on her arm. She doesn’t pull away. I’m not sure it’s entirely because of how it’s supposed to look. The expression on her face and the way her eyes dance with twin flames kind of makes me believe she doesn’t have any desire to put distance between us. My heart starts pounding doubly as hard as it should.
I don’t understand how a simple kiss can be so unnerving. For both of us.
“I’m sorry.” I do mean it, although I’m not apologizing for the kiss. Rather, I’m sorry for the wall I’ve just put up between us. Emily might be standing close to me, but on the inside, she’s sprinting away like there’s a pack of mutant bunnies chasing her.
Emily touches her lips gingerly like they’re stinging. I get it. My lips are tingling like crazy too, and I feel like I’ve just put them in a bug zapper.
“Okay,” she breathes shakily. “But that can’t happen again.”
“I know.”
“Why did you…”
“Because you were going on and on about these flaws you seem to think you have, and I knew you wouldn’t stop, and I wanted you to stop.”
“So it was just that? Just a distraction?”
“No. I wanted to kiss you.”
“Christ,” she mutters. “You should have lied and said it was just to get me to be quiet. It would be easier.”
“I’m sorry. It was to get you to be quiet. That’s all.”
She huffs. “But now I know the truth.”
“We could walk again—around the park. And pretend like it never happened. You could tell me about your brothers, what growing up was like, and I could pretend you don’t already know everything about me.”