Page 8 of Close Knit

She giggles, locking eyes with me. Neither of us dares to break this moment. We’re teetering on the edge of a cliff. My thumb traces along the inside of her palm.

I should let her go, but then, without warning, she blurts out, “I’m going to kiss you.”

“No one’s ever announced it like that before.”

“Too much?”

“Not at all.”

Her eyelashes flutter closed as she tiptoes upward. I lean in, letting my hand anchor around her back. I memorize her hot breath trailing along my jaw. And then her lips are on mine. Sweetness explodes on my tongue, shattering my self-control.

I crave her, deeply, intensely. Even just for tonight. Her body presses into mine, and I groan. This is selfish, risky, and perhaps even wrong, but there’s no time to mull over the consequences. I need to find out if her moans are as colorful and addictive as she’s been tonight.

Just like our handshake, she’s the first to pull away. Her pupils are hazy and dilated, like she’s as drunk on me as I am on her.

“Maybe, instead of calling it a night, we could head upstairs,” she says, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. “And I can show you the seams of my sweater.”

I raise an eyebrow, both amused and intrigued. “The seams of your sweater?”

“Absolutely.” She leans in closer, her body pressing into mine. “You see, I’d need to take it off to properly demonstrate the craftsmanship,” she says, her voice low and teasing.

“Your logic is flawless.” My fingers find the hem of her sleeve, the fabric soft beneath my touch.

“I’m nothing if not thorough.”

My throat tightens. One night. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Then let’s not waste any time.”

Chapter 2

Daphne

Holy freaking bananas!What have I done?

Some people are yanked into this world with the confidence of gods. My older sister, Juniper, is one of those people. Dazzling, brilliant, and with so much self-esteem, you could use it to power a rocket ship.

The rest are like me, an extra-special brand of fake-it-till-you-make-it, whose every decision is thoroughly considered and digested until the cringe-inducing reel is on replay in my mind.

It was fun to pretend to be the former tonight, but now I’m in a hotel bathroom with a man whose name I don’t even know.

Am I really about to have my first one-night stand?

It’s only been two days since I committed to my Yes Year on my twenty-sixth birthday—an entire year dedicated to stepping out of my comfort zone. I wished for adventure, and now it’s being served to me on a giant, hunky man platter, complete with an ear piercing.

Happy freaking birthday, Daphne!

I pinch my inner arm. Ouch.

Okay, not a dream.

Behind me, workout clothes hang off the door. I grab a tissue from the sink, wipe away remnants of mascara from under myeyes, and run my fingers through my hip-length lilac hair. The hotel lighting is harsh, making me look ghostly pale. Maybe dying my hair yesterday was a mistake.

Screw this!No more negative thoughts. I want this. I want him, and I can do this.

“You are a hot, charming, and delightful woman,” I whisper into the mirror and throw up my arms.Make yourself big for a boost of confidence!My therapist’s voice echoes in my head as I stretch onto my tiptoes. “You are going to go out there and have the best sex of your life!”

Or, at the very least, nice sex.

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