Page 82 of Failure to Match

That was about as coherent as I could be with him nipping at my earlobe like that.

His embrace only tightened. “Go away,” he grumbled unhappily, even though I was pretty sure the sisters were long gone by now. “We’re busy.”

He sounded very growly and a little drunk.

“Jackson,” I tried again. The fact that I could even form the word was a miracle. He was very, very,verygood with his tongue. Very excellent.

“You taste like peaches.”

“That’s... anatomically... impossible,” I panted.

“Tell that to your skin,” he said before licking my jaw again.

I clenched around nothing, my core burning. “Jackson… look at… me… please.”

Reluctantly, he peeled his mouth away from my neck and glared at me with hazy, melted-blue eyes. The man was pouting.

“Molly and Mabel... saw us,” I explained, still fighting for air.

“Okay.” His eyes locked in on my lips again. He leaned forward.

My palm pressed to his mouth before he could kiss me, which made his eyebrows crumple. Like he truly didn’t understand what the problem was.

“What are…” My lungs were all but heaving, yet none of the hoarded oxygen was able to reach my brain. “You kissed me. Why would you do that?”

He cocked his head and quirked a brow, my hand still pressed to his mouth.

Little by little, the realization seeped into my skin.

Little by little, I started to panic.

“Why would you…” Did he haveany ideawhat he’d just done? How something like this could impact my career? “We’re supposed to be friends!”

His brows slammed together at that, then he nipped at my fingers. I kept them secure over his mouth, my eyes narrowing. My senses were returning bit by bit, the gears in my head groaning to stiff motion.

“Put me down.”

His arms tightened around me for a single stubborn beat before he gently placed me back on the carpet. He did not look happy about it.

“Listen to me very carefully,” I said, still not having peeled back my hand. My confusion was very quickly morphing into hot panic, nipping restlessly at my skin. “This—whatever it was—never happened, okay? I’m going to go to my room and finish prepping for our interview tomorrow, you’re going to go explain to Molly and Mabel that this was just a misunderstanding, and then we’re never going to talk about it ever again.”

Then I made the mistake of pulling my hand back.

“No.”

My fingers dug into my palms. “I wasn’t asking.”

“And I’m not going to pretend like we didn’t just make out,” he said. “You know what we should do instead? Talk about it.”

“That sounds like the worst possible course of action.”

“Effective communication is the cornerstone of any healthy relationship,” he pointed out.

The tips of my ears tingled. I was in so much fucking trouble. “You and I are not in a relationship.”

He tutted. “We’ve got a professional relationship, not to mention a budding friendship that requires nurturing?—”

“Jackson.”

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