Page 39 of Forbidden Lyrics

Could I be any more pathetic?

His calloused palm tickles my skin as he cups my cheek and brushes his fingers back and forth along my pale complexion without any regard to how his simple touch is wrecking me.

“Do you always blush this much?” he murmurs.

“If I say yes, will you make fun of me?”

His chuckle is throaty and deep, threatening to destroy me. “No, but I might be jealous.”

My breath hitches.

Jealous?

Gibson?

Pretty sure he doesn’t know the meaning of the word. Why would he when he can have any girl he wants?

“And why would you be jealous?” I wonder, unable to hide my curiosity.

He licks his lips and leans closer. Closer than a friend should lean. Closer than anyone should lean unless they have not-so-innocent intentions. And for the first time in my life, I’m all for them. The not-so-innocent intentions. The tension before the final snap. The moment where he finally puts me out of my misery, and we kiss.

Holy crap! I might actually kiss Gibson Hayes.

His smile is cocky as if he can read my mind as his calloused thumb gently brushes over my cheekbone a second time, sending tingles down the nape of my neck. It takes everything inside of me to not lean closer to him. To not close the final inch of distance that separates us. To not take what I’ve been craving since the moment we first met.

His breath fans across my cheeks as he whispers, “Maybe I wanna be the only one who makes you––”

My phone dings in my lap, and I flinch in surprise. Maddie’s name flashes across the screen.

Mads: Where the hell are you? You can’t just up and leave in the middle of the night, Dove.

Annoyed, I flip the phone face down in my lap without bothering to reply, then peek up at Gibbs. “Sorry. My sister texted. What were you going to say?”

The warmth in his gaze disappears, transforming into indifference before he drops his hand back to his side. As if the spell’s been broken. As if I imagined the whole thing. As if I’m going crazy if I honestly believed he was going to kiss me.

“Nothing.” He pushes himself to his feet, sets the guitar on its stand near the door, and turns back to me.

“Thanks for coming today. You’re a good friend,” he decides.

My heart plummets to my stomach.

Friend.

Pretty sure I’ve never hated a word more in my entire life.

Frozen in place, I try to steady my breathing, but it feels like the ground has completely fallen from beneath me. Am I really that naive? That crazy? That desperate to think he was actually going to kiss me?

Disappointment swells in my lower gut at the cold reminder of where Gibson and I stand, no matter how confusing his actions have been lately. Sure, I offered to come over, but he’s the one that accepted it and left his front door open. He’s the one who wanted to hear me sing. The one who offered his water bottle for me to drink from.

But he’s also the one who hasn’t kissed me, no matter how many opportunities he’s had tonight.

“You okay?” he asks, staring at me like I belong in a freaking zoo. Because I haven’t moved an inch. I’m still on the stupid floor in his stupid bedroom after getting lost in my stupid emotions and stupid insecurities.

Snap out of it, Dove!

I clear my throat and force myself to my feet. “Yes. I’m fine. And anytime. I’m glad I could help. I should probably get going.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later, right?”

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