Page 71 of David

“That book is old,” I argue.

“Have you changed a lot since then?” she asks, and I draw in a long breath, pondering an answer.

“I never thought it would work against me.”

“It doesn’t.”

“No kidding.”

I empty my glass and set it down.

The heat percolates in my blood, giving me a nice rush. I wish she’d feel what I feel.

If only we could forget about this book business and that we have to behave.

“It doesn’t work against you,” she says softly, a pang of regret dripping in her voice. “It’s just a fact.”

She drinks more wine, which makes me believe she feels the same and tries to hide it.

“Well, it was nice meeting you,” I say, sliding my hand to hers.

She places it in my palm, and I wrap my hand around it.

Her hand is small, and her skin is warm.

Her eyes look like heat dipped in chocolate.

“So you want to keep things proper for our friends,” I murmur, searching her eyes.

Her lips part, stealing the show while summoning my attention.

“Yes. But it’s not only that…” she continues.

I squeeze her hand slightly, watching her chest move up and down a little faster.

She’s hot.

Warm.

Sweat glistens along her hairline, yet she says nothing.

“What else is there aside from having to stay away from each other?”

She blinks a few times, slowly, enticingly, without intention.

The wine lacing her blood makes her incredibly attractive.

It’s like she’s up on a cliff, not knowing whether to jump or not.

“Don’t you think it's the right thing to do?” she asks quietly.

I nod.

“Yes, I do. Will we do it? I don’t know,” I say, tipping my eyes to her lips again, realizing I have derailed her thoughts.

“What else is there, Liz?”

Her hand melts in mine.

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