Page 10 of If Only In Our Dreams

“Sooo…” Robin ducked his head, meeting my gaze. That pale lock of hair stuck to his forehead. I had the weirdest urge to lean down and lick his eyebrow. It was right there. Right there. And it looked very lickable. Just like the rest of him. This was way worse than the eyebrow-stroking urge. And way harder to ignore.

“So?” I countered, skin hot.

“This is weird,” Robin hummed, shrugging a shoulder.

“It is,” I agreed, because it was. “I’m fucking it up.”

If Rosie had been here she would’ve made me put a dollar in the swear jar. And that thought made me crack a smile. Robin smiled back, and while it was still a little guarded, it was far warmer than before.

“You’re not fucking it up,” he disagreed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re just…super fucking awkward dude. But in a cute way. I mean…the photo album was pretty extra, but I super appreciate it.”

“I don’t want to be creepy.”

“The fact that you don’t want to be creepy majorly helps toward the not-creepiness,” Robin laughed—all scratchy soft—and it was the prettiest sound I’d ever heard.

“Ugh.” I covered my face with one hand, embarrassed, and then I dropped it—because if I was only ever going to have this one conversation with this stunning, beautiful,talentedman, I wasn’t about to block my view of him while I did it.

“Why’d you say being an author was unfortunate?” Robin asked, repeating my earlier words. My cheeks burned even hotter. I’d always been an ugly blusher, and I was certain it was that horrible splotchiness that made Robin take pity on me.

“That is a…recent development,” I admitted.

“Care to elaborate, big guy?” he asked, obviously amused.

“I don’t,” I shook my head, face still blazing. “Because it’shorrible.”

“Is it?”

“You’ll laugh.”

“I like laughing.”

I cracked a smile. “My mother’s book club started reading one of my books,” I confessed. I hadn’t told a single soul about this. I was more than a little surprised at how easy it was to talk to Robin.

“Supportive, that’s not a bad thing.” Robin’s lips looked very soft.

“She doesn’t know they’re mine.”

“Oh?” Robin blinked, head tilting curiously to the side.

“She…” Oh no. “This is too awful to say.”

“Say it anyway.”

I laughed, unable to help it. “She and her group of rowdy, knitting buddies have all decided my books are…” I couldn’t help but die a little on the inside, “tantalizing.”

“Oh my god,” Robin’s eyes widened. “No way.”

“Yes.”

“Which is why…you said it wasunfortunate.”

“It’s been on my mind, yes,” I admitted, though all of this felt slightly less terrible now that Robin was laughing because of it. “Every day. All the time.” I laughed, unable to help it. “She texts me.”

“Oh, dear god.”

“She wants me to read them.”

“Oh my fuck,” Robin cackled. “What do you even say to that?”

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