Even as I thought it, I told myself I was being melodramatic. It wasn’t my last chance. It wasn’t like there was any guarantee that she and Tony would hit it off tomorrow night. But still…
“What are you nervous about?” I asked, picking up one of the magazines and flipping through it. The article, How to Catch a Crush, was marked with one of those sticky notes. I skimmed the bolded parts with a rueful grin. Some of them were totally ridiculous and some…
Find a way to get physical. My eyes caught on the phrase. Hold his hand. Touch his arm. If things are going well? Just kiss him already.
“...not sure if I’m nervous,” she was saying beside me. “Just...not sure this is a good idea.”
I jerked my head up to look at her. She was eyeing me oddly, nibbling on her lower lip.
Just kiss her already.
Was I honestly going to take advice from one of these ridiculous articles?
Her lips parted under my stare.
Maybe.
“I mean, I think I’m ready to talk to him, you know? I’ve got a list of questions prepared.” And then she was babbling. “A list of questions,” she repeated it with a nervous little laugh. “That doesn’t sound very romantic, does it?” She didn’t wait for me to answer, instead she adopted a slightly different voice. “Women are very practical...even Ingrid Bergman.”
She was quoting something and I had no idea what. All I knew was...I freakin’ loved that she did that.
I loved that I knew what it meant when she did that.
Right now? It meant she was nervous.
I shifted so I was facing her. I was in her space. Right next to her. On her bed.
Just kiss her already.
“So then what are you afraid of?” I asked.
She just stared at me. Her wide eyes wider than ever behind her glasses and her lips still parted like she was just as impatient as I was to just kiss already.
She licked her lips and I barely held back a groan.
I kept my voice low as I reached for her hand and held it, my thumb stroking the soft skin of her palm and feeling the erratic pulse at her wrist. “So let’s pretend…” I started, my gaze never leaving hers. “Let’s say you’ve got this list of questions and it works. Tony talks about himself for a while and things are going great…” It was hard to keep the sarcasm from my voice but I did my best. “What then?”
She shook her head and her eyes had a slightly dazed look in them. “I don’t know.”
“Well, if everything is going so great, he’ll probably try to kiss you,” I said. “Is that what you’re nervous about?”
She gave a jerky nod, her eyes widening even further. “I’ve never kissed anyone before,” she admitted in a rush of air. “There’s a good chance I’d mess it up.”
My gaze dropped to her lips. Was she still talking about Tony? Was she really imagining kissing Tony right now or...me?
Man, I hoped it was me. My heart was racing in my chest as I leaned forward, the air thickening between until it was hard to breathe.
“I don’t know what I’d do if he kissed me,” she said, her voice breathless and high.
I stopped moving in because…Tony.
She was talking about freakin’ Tony.
I swallowed down my disappointment. “You’d kiss him back, I imagine.”
I tried to keep my tone mild, to not let her see the crazy possessive anger that made the words feel like glass.
“I might laugh,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper now, like we were in a confessional or something. “Or worse…”
“An impersonation,” I guessed.
She flinched as she nodded. “Or...hiccups.” Her gaze clashed with mine and her eyes were so beautifully vulnerable and sweet, for a second there I forgot to be jealous. Because I was the one who was here. Now. With her.
“It’s a toss up, really,” she continued. “Between hysterical laughter, a bad movie impression, or hiccups.” She swallowed. “Sometimes I get hiccups when I’m really nervous.”
Her gaze fell to my lips, and I knew. She was nervous right now because… She felt it. She felt this.
I touched my fingers to her jaw and her gaze flew back up to mine. “Then maybe we should give this a test run, too. What do you say?”
I didn’t wait for her answer before I was leaning in, slowly, slowly...giving her all the time in the world to pull away.
When she didn’t, I closed the gap between us and I kissed her. The first touch was sweet and soft, her lips parting in surprise and a breath of air between us as she gasped.
And then she was kissing me back, her lips clinging to mine, tentatively at first, and then gaining in confidence as I moved my mouth over hers. The kiss was slow—an exploration.
A test.
A tease.
I wanted more. I wanted to tilt my head and deepen the kiss. I wanted to hear her moan and hold her close. I wanted…
I pulled back abruptly and drew in air.
I wanted this to be real.
Her eyes fluttered open and her gaze was dazed and dreamy. Her reaction was genuine and so freakin’ sweet it hurt my chest.
I dropped a kiss on her nose and then her cheeks and then one last light kiss on her lips before I pulled back to look at her.
“What was that?” she whispered.
I smiled because...she was so stinkin’ cute sometimes, even when she was killing me with her innocence. “That was a kiss,” I said.
“A...pretend kiss?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “That was a real kiss, because I really like you.” Maybe it was cowardly but I didn’t wait for her to respond. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what she had to say. Instead, I shifted toward the edge of the bed and stood. “I really like you, Simone. And I think you might like me, too. But I need you
