Page 78 of The Kiss of Deception

I point to Camila. “You are coming.” Then to her sibling. “You can come if you want. Though your presence is not required.” Rodrigo opens his mouth, but I clap my hands. “Hurry, boys. Go clean up. You stink. And I don’t want to face hungry Camila alone”

Miles catches his bottom lip between his teeth, clamping hard, and his heated mutter pools low in my somersaulting belly. “So hot when you’re bossy.”

His gray gaze glints with a language of our own, crafted together somewhere along the way, and I answer in like.

He reads it in the angles of my smile.

He frames my face in his hands. And he puts his mouth on mine.

The simple, soft press of his lips against mine.

He exhales deeply, breathing butterflies right into my lungs, making my heart stutter. When he pulls back, his nose brushes mine like he wants to prolong contact by any means possible.

Then he’s off, leaving me with the commentary of the non–twins and a racing heart.

“Ew.”

“Disgusting.”

“I hate people in love.”

Chapter Nineteen

Zoe

Each footprint feels like a step further into an illusion.

The cobblestone under our feet winds into a clearing where a branch of the Charles river greets us in ripples, wide enough to stretch and swim but too narrow for boats to sail.

Tall trees twist in a canopy of leaves that dance with the whisperings of the wind and the dappled sunlight. Under them sit wooden benches, worn by time and the seasons.

Wildflowers bloom here and there, coloring the grounds with splashes of color and the air with a sweet scent.

The river speaks in murmurs, soft sloshes against the riverbank, small stones and sand.

A quiet escape from the hustle and bustle of the vultures and their scrutinizing lenses.

Our own little world. Just ours. In a different universe, where the city is a distant memory, while within the reach of a stretched hand.

“I know we probably should make these appearances somewhere more public…”

For a nanosecond, I pause, involuntarily searching Miles’s features. He keeps his gaze down, gauging our steps on the uneven grounds. When I trip on a tree root, distracted by him, his hand shoots around my waist to steady me.

I straighten, pinning my gaze on the city horizon, but Miles keeps his muscled warmth around me. Even on a hot summer day, my body welcomes it.

“But we’re moving in together next week, so I think our credit score is high enough.” I laugh.

It’s a nervous one, too high and a little shrieky, but I’m nervous too.

I wasn’t. Not until I realized this is different from the countless hours we’ve spent together. It was supposed to be a thank you and an apology, yet it feels unnervingly like a date—a real date, candles and romance—which didn’t make me nervous at all. Then I realized maybe I should be nervous. Or maybe I’m simply reading too much into it.

“The time we spend together is not a means to an end, Zoe. I like being with you.”

The little bugs in my stomach metamorphose into butterflies that take flight straight to my fluttering heart.

I crane my neck up to his face, and he tilts his down to read my lips. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.” He hums low in his throat, unfaltering in his gaze and his hold. “I suppose we could find something to eat.”

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