Losing it

other was brushing softly against the skin around the burn.

If he kept touching me like that, I was going to melt into a puddle right here on the floor.

“Um, thanks.”

He seemed to realize then what he was doing. His eyes flicked quickly to his hands. Instead of pulling back immediately, he grinned, brushed his hand slowly down my leg, and then let go.

“No problem. Now we need to cool it off. We could run it under cool water.” I pictured my leg hiked up to the sink, or us both trying to maneuver in my bathtub. My face must have given it away, because he added, “Or just a cool damp cloth will work.”

I handed him a washcloth from a basket behind me, and he turned on the sink, waiting until the water was cool before wetting the cloth.

I sucked in a breath as he laid it across my burn, but the cool felt good, enough that I relaxed for the first time since we came into my apartment.

“Better?”

I nodded, “Much. I’ll never wear jeans that tight again.”

He quirked a smile. “Now that would be a shame.”

I was going to need a fan to keep myself cool if he kept saying things like that.

“Listen,” He began. “I’m sorry about this. I never should have pushed you to get on that bike.”

“It’s not your fault I know nothing about motorcycles, and didn’t realize it would be hot.”

“I can’t believe you’ve never been on a motorcycle.”

“Yeah, well, there are a lot of things I’ve never done.”

He quirked one eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Well…” I swear my heartbeat sounded like stu-pid, stu-pid, stu-pid as it pounded in my ears. “Um, until today I’d never met anyone who was British.”

He laughed, combing his fingers unconsciously through his hair. It made me want to comb my fingers through his hair.

He said, “That’s why you kissed me, isn’t it? All you American girls seem to love accents.”

I swallowed my smile and said, “I believe you were the one who kissed me.”

He stood, and his messy blond hair fell over his forehead, framing those devilish eyes. “So I was.”

He ran the cloth under the water again to keep it cool, but my body was too heated to really tell the difference when he placed it back on my skin. His other hand curled around my ankle again.

I kept my breath carefully steady, and said, “Your turn.”

“Hmm?”

“What’s something you’ve never done?”

“Well, I’ve never chatted up a girl in a pub before tonight.”

My jaw dropped. “Really?” How was that possible? He was gorgeous! Maybe all the girls just threw themselves at him before he even entered the bar, so he never had to bother with going inside.

He shrugged, and with the motion his thumb started brushing back and forth against the top of my foot.

“I know it goes against the English stereotype, but I’ve never been much for getting sloshed, um drunk, all the time.”

“Me neither,” I said. And I meant it, even though my head was still a bit fuzzy from all that tequila. “So what brings this non-stereotypical Brit to Texas?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been in the States for a while. I came here to go to school, and never went back. I actually just moved back to Texas though. Haven’t been here for a few years.”

“Me too. I just moved back here a few years ago.”

I’d grown up in Texas when I was little, but we moved to Minnesota when I was in 8th grade. It was always my plan to come back here for college.

He re-wetted the cloth one more time, and we sat there talking. He told me about growing up in England, and how different it had been living in the states.

“The first time some bloke told me he liked my pants, I was so shocked I thought I’d left home missing a few key things.”

“Pants? I don’t understand.”

“That’s what we call underwear, love.”

“Oh,” I laughed. “Good to know.”

“When I asked a classmate for a rubber, you call them erasers, everyone laughed so hard that I was ready to board a flight straight back to London.”

I tried to hold in my laughter, and failed. But I figured he deserved it after laughing at my pants, um… jeans, ordeal earlier.

“That must have been terrible.”

He reached for the gauze I’d pulled down from the cabinet earlier, and he carefully placed it over the burn, and taped down the edges as he spoke.

“You get used to it. I’ve been here so long now that I usually manage well enough. Occasionally when I visit London, and come back, I have some trouble adjusting, but in all, I’d say I’m fairly Americanized.”

“Except for that accent.”

He smiled. “Can’t get rid of the accent now, can I? Then how would I ever attract the attention of pretty things like you?”

“By reading Shakespeare in a bar, obviously.”

He laughed, and the sound spread through my skin, loosening some of my nerves.

“You’re cute,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “Yes… ridiculously so, as we established earlier”

“Would you feel better if I called you ridiculously sexy?”

Just like that, the ease I’d felt earlier disappeared, and my breaths came too shallow. I had no answer. What could I possibly say to that?

“What’s that look for?” He asked.

I had no idea which of my multitude of emotions had shown on my face, so I shrugged.

“You act like no one’s ever called you sexy before.” That would be because they hadn’t. “Which I know can’t be true, not when you look the way you looked tonight. I could barely keep my hands off you, and we’ve only just met. I’d be embarrassed if I hadn’t enjoyed it so much.”

This was it. I may not have had sex, but I knew enough to know when a guy was putting the moves on me. And remarkably, I didn’t even care. All I cared about was the fact that he was sitting so close to me, and was driving me crazy. His hand was still leisurely stroking my ankle, and if he didn’t kiss me again soon I was going to combust. “Look at me, I can’t even keep my hands off you now.”

I swallowed, but my mouth suddenly felt like I’d swallowed a sandbox.

He pulled himself up on his knees, and his hand trailed from my ankle up the outside of my uninjured calf. His hips were a few inches away from my knees as I sat there dumbfounded on the toilet.

“Tell me I’m not crazy,” He said.

I couldn’t do that. I was nowhere near sane enough at the moment to advise anyone else on rational behavior.

“Tell me I can kiss you.”

That… that I could do.

“You can kiss—“

I didn’t even finish the sentence before his lips were on mine, and my burn was forgotten completely.

Chapter Five

The kiss ended too soon.

An embarrassing groan of disappointment left my mouth, but it couldn’t be helped. Luckily, Garrick wasn’t