Page 105 of The Fake Out Flex

"No. All my beeping and buzzing clothes are in my laundry hamper."

He snickers and comes closer. "Good."

"No food deliveries coming?"

"I ate already."

I stand up.

Our eyes meet.

He traces his fingers delicately across my cheek. "I've tried so hard to resist you, Evie. And I've waited so long for this moment."

I tilt my head up. "You have?"

"You have no idea. I want to kiss you so bad. Can I?"

"Yes."

He leans in closer, sliding his hand around my waist, and gently brings me closer to him. There's a slight pause, as if he's checking in to make sure I'm okay. I bob my head, and he continues.

Our mouths meet for the very first time.

Tentatively.

Tenderly.

In the softest of collisions.

The gentle brush of his lips against mine sends a yummy warmth radiating throughout my entire body.

Gradually, the kiss deepens.

He grows more confident, curling his fingers around the back of my neck and taking control.

I part my lips, an invitation he accepts.

His tongue sweeps into my mouth, a melding of warmth and wonder, a show of strength and sensitivity.

I surrender to it.

To him.

To this moment teenage me wanted so badly but thought would never come.

To this moment adult me tried to convince herself she didn't want and thought she had gotten over hoping for.

"Hi," he says, as the sweetest kiss of my life ends, and he delicately strokes my cheek.

"Hi," I manage.

"That was amazing." His voice is low and coarse.

"Worth traveling all this way for?"

"Definitely." He exhales. "I hate that I have to leave so soon."

"Don't be silly. You have to go. I can drive you to the airport if you like?"

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