Page 35 of Love JD

Just when I felt like it wasn’t enough, like I wanted to grab him and—something, Jesus, I didn’t even know what—Zev lifted his head and slowly broke the kiss. I realized I was panting, clinging to his shirt for dear life, and my legs had turned to pudding. Zev pulled away just far enough that I could focus on his simmering gaze. I blinked drowsily. “Wow.”

Zev looked confused, his brows drawn together slightly. “Yeah. Wow.”

I stared at the sharp planes of his face, at the way his warm eyes danced over my features. I licked my lips, and they felt puffy. He still hadn’t released me, and our chests rose and fell, slowly calming in tempo. “Um,” I hummed uncertainly.

He nuzzled my nose with his. “You taste like strawberries, too.”

That pulled a grin from me. “Do you want my toothpaste brand?”

“I think I like it better on your lips,” he whispered with husky amusement.

I swallowed hard, and then reluctantly, I eased further away from him. “I guess I’m glad you like it if you have to teach me to kiss.”

“Taught,” he corrected with a wink.

My stomach swooped and it stole my breath. That… was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. And, in that moment, I realized something that spelled danger for me more surely than a fall from a blue spruce. I was really into Zev Brady. Shit.

“So, let’s hear the vomit kiss story,” he said as he took my hand and led me out of the living room. Just like that, he had my hand. Like it was no big deal and didn’t make my pulse race like crazy.

“Uh,” I glanced down at our joined hands. Be cool. This is totally normal. Sexy, unattached people who make out do this all the time. “I should go change.”

Zev looked over his shoulder with a smoldering glance. “Don’t you dare.”

“Oh boy,” I murmured, smiling reluctantly. Sure, I’ll just hang out in this towel that could fall off at any second. Seems reasonable.

“So, the failed almost kiss?” he prompted.

“I didn’t have many chances to get to know guys in high school. I did remote school online while I traveled with my dad. He left me alone a lot, and he didn’t think to enroll me in any local groups. I didn’t ask because the idea made me want to puke even before I had dysautonomia.” I blew out a sigh. “It wasn’t until college that I started to make some friends and get to know people.”

“Not normal,” he reiterated with sharp emphasis. Actually, he looked kind of peeved as he led us to the kitchen. He let me go at a barstool in front of a floating island in the middle of his white and cream kitchen that looked like it belonged to a cottagecore influencer. The island had wheels, and it stored copper pots and pans underneath. I sat on the white barstool and leaned my elbows on the counter.

“I did have a weird childhood,” I admitted. “Anyway, I made friends in college, and obviously, I did find a… a crush.” I felt my cheeks light up like a stoplight and resisted the urge to touch my cold hands to them. “But I didn’t say anything for a long time.”

Zev gave me a side-eye as he filled a kettle at his white porcelain, farmhouse-style sink. “I’m surprised he didn’t speed that up.”

Robert would never. He was just as nervous about intimacy as I was. “We both felt the same. We’re kind of well matched that way.”

Zev gave me an inscrutable look and clacked the kettle lid closed. “Right.”

“So, anyway,” I went on, looking down at the wood grain and tracing swirls in it. “I turned twenty-one, and we went out for drinks.”

“Oh Jesus,” Zev muttered. He put the kettle on the stove and leaned against it, toned arms folded as he listened to me.

“I didn’t get drunk,” I rushed to add, my eyes flying to his. “Really. I was smart about it, and I mostly drank hard lemonade.” His lips twitched, but he didn’t say anything. “But I guess we both got tipsy enough that he pulled me aside in the bar and said he wanted to kiss me. It was really sweet. He asked permission first and everything.”

Zev rolled his eyes. “Okay.”

I gave him an answering look of annoyance. “It was cute. But it made me nervous, and before I knew it, my head was spinning and while he leaned over to kiss me I just—I lost it. I puked on our shoes and then passed out cold.”

He grimaced. “That’s pretty traumatic.”

I hadn’t thought about it as a traumatic experience exactly, but it had made it that much harder for me to go out of my comfort zone. “It was just awkward,” I mumbled, looking back down. My hair had mostly dried and fell over my shoulders and pooled on the counter. “I don’t think I can do romance.”

“Pretty sure you just did romance,” Zev pointed out as he slid two mugs from hooks mounted to the wall above his butcher block counters. “And you gave me a fucking run for my money, for that matter.”

I peeked up, uncertain. “You’re not just saying that because you feel sorry for me, are you?”

Zev walked over and set the two mugs on the counter in front of me. He leaned over, bracing his weight on his hands so he could catch my eyes. “The only thing I feel is desperate to kiss you again.”

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