Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Instantly, I’m lost in the taste of her kiss. There’s no hesitation, only the intensity I’ve come to expect from her, mixed with a hunger that ignites things low in my body.
My hands slide into her hair, pulling her ponytail loose as she gasps into my mouth. I trace the outline of her lips with my tongue, teasing and tasting, breathing her in, committing every delicious second to memory.
The sounds of the city fade away—car horns and sirens and endless chatter—all of it muted until there’s nothing left but the rush of my blood and a single word flickering through my mind.
Perfect.
She’s perfect, exactly the way she is, no lessons required.
By the time we break for air, the sun has shifted to the other side of the park, and a cool breeze has chased off the less intrepid tourists.
Ellie holds my gaze, her lips red and swollen.
Neither of us says a word, and it truly is fucking perfect.
Until the spell breaks.
I see it the moment it happens, the sudden shift in her eyes from content to concerned.
Ellie sits up on the blanket, and I follow, trying to gauge a situation that has me unmoored. I’m out of my element, not sure what the right call is, only knowing that I want her to be okay.
“I… I’m sorry, Jack,” she says, suddenly even more anxious than she was at her apartment yesterday. “This isn’t… We can’t…” She motions between us, nearly knocking over an open bottle of sparkling water, which I save before it topples into my lap. “This can’t happen.”
“It can’t,” I say, not sure if I’m agreeing or asking a question.
“Right. I mean…right?”
“Right.” I wave a hand, as if to erase the last fifteen minutes. As if I could.
“Ryan texted to see what I was up to today,” she says, “and I didn’t tell him we had plans. That’s weird, right? We’re friends.”
“We are,” I say carefully.
“And adults.”
“That, too.”
“So why am I so nervous to tell Ryan about this? Well, not this…” She blows out a breath through pursed lips. “I don’t mean this, like we’re a thing. Which obviously we’re not. I just meant—”
“Your brother thinks you have a crush on me.”
“Wait. What? He told you that?” She glances my way for a split second, then dodges again, picking at a thread in the blanket. “Ugh! I’m going to murder him!”
“So, you don’t?” I try not to sound deflated, but I’m not sure I’m successful. “Never?”
Ellie groans. “Fine, maybe I had the tiniest crush on you when you and Ryan were in grad school. But that doesn’t count. You were my older brother’s hot friend. That’s textbook crush bait.”
I fight the urge to grin, and lose. “So, you thought I was hot?”
“Must’ve been the drugs,” she mumbles.
“That one time you smoked pot in your entire life.”
“Pot has lasting effects, Jack.”
I drag my thumb across my lower lip, the sweet taste of her still lingering. “So, back to the part about you thinking I’m sexy…”
She still won’t meet my eyes, but behind the shimmering curtain of her hair, a shy smile plays on her lips. “Yes, you’re good-looking. It’s not like that’s a secret. Unlike the location where I’m going to hide Ryan’s body after I murder him in his sleep.”
“Slow down there, Dexter.” I laugh, nudging her knee with mine. “You know he loves you.”
“I know. I love him, too, even when he’s annoying me.” Ellie sighs, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “Which is why I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize his reputation. The same goes for yours.”
I choose to believe she’s talking about her article, and not that explosive kiss we just shared.
“I know what I signed up for,” I say. “And Ryan and I both trust you to handle this appropriately, and to help us figure out where we went wrong so we can make it right.”
“That…means a lot.” She turns to me, her eyes guarded, but that shy smile still tugging at her lips. “I should probably go. I have things to take care of at home.”
“Me, too.” I reluctantly pack up the rest of our picnic gear. “I guess this means Dude 101 is over.”
She flashes me a grin as we head out of the park together. “So that’s it? I passed the course?”
“With flying colors.” I give her shoulder a quick, totally appropriate, just-friends squeeze. “Skip the cheese platter, keep your sock stuffed in tight, and you’ve got this, El.”
And you’ve got me, wrapped around your dainty, sticking-up-in-the-air-when-you-eat pinky finger.
It’s true. Crushing on Ellie back in the day was one thing—something we apparently shared. Lusting after her was another. But now, after that kiss? After the way she made my heart slam against my ribs as the world spun away?
This can’t happen…
Her words echo in my memory, and somewhere in the recesses of my mind, a door slams shut and bolts itself twice.