Page 65 of When the Fake Snow Falls

I’m in a trance.

I don’t snap out of it until he takes a seat again and nods toward me. “Ready when you are.”

“Right. Sorry.” I blink and move from my spot in the living room to join him. Setting my bag down on the kitchen table, Iorganize my things with the distinct feeling of his eyes on me the entire time.

I shoot him a sideways glance and tease, “Are you worried I’ll mess something up?” I grab my spray bottle.

“Are you kidding? I’ve never been more confident about being in the right hands.”

Shielding his eyes and face with my hand, I dampen his hair. “But you like things a certain way.”

“I’m quickly realizing having you standing in front of me wearing leggings and a Rolling Stones T-shirt is how I like things.”

Gliding my fingers over the strands of his hair, I prepare for the first cut. “Right,” I say with a breath of laughter. “Let’s hope you still feel that way when I’m done.” The scissors snip and the first few strands fall to the floor. I know what I’m doing when it comes to hair, and since I already have a feel for how he likes his, I have no problem making the first cut and getting to work. Maneuvering around him, I take turns using my comb and shears to cut and texturize. He’s been quiet the whole time, and I hope he isn’t regretting this decision.

I stand in front of him as I finish. “I don’t think you’ve ever been this quiet.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this focused.”

Leaning back slightly, I run my comb through his hair to see how everything falls. “I’m working.”

“Well, it’s turning me on.”

The words come out of his mouth so casually. I almost don’t catch what he said, but as soon as it registers, I lean back to look at him again. “What?” I ask with a laugh.

His eyes jump up to meet mine. “Are you really that surprised?”

“Yes,” I answer automatically.

A ghost of a smile teases at the corner of his mouth. “Candace, you’re practically straddling me, and I think I should siton my hands, so I’m not tempted to touch you in ways that I shouldn’t.”

I look down, and sure enough, my wide stance hovers over his leg. My heart stutters in my chest, and the room suddenly feels too warm. I should tell him to sit on his hands. I should step away from him. Flirting with Chase feels like playing with fire, but before I can stop myself, I say, “Since when do you hold back on touching me?”

“Always,” he answers too quickly. “I always hold back when it comes to touching you.”

Every warning siren goes off in my brain, but everything I’ve been trying to do for the sake of self-preservation wanes under the intensity of his stare. “Why?”

A humorless laugh leaves him, and he drops his gaze to where his hand rests on his thigh. All it takes is a lift of his pinky, and he’s grazing the inside of my knee. “Because there’s no limit for me. I could do everything with you and not regret a single thing.” He keeps his eyes trained on his hand as he smooths his palm over my thigh and hooks his fingers around the back of my leg. “But the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable. If I ever did something to make you say Jack Frost, I’d be . . .” He shakes his head.

My pulse quickens, and it takes all my willpower to keep my knees from buckling. I try to brush it off with a smile as I look over my work, running my hands through the shorter hair.

His mouth quirks, but he says, “It’s not funny, Candace.”

“It’s a little funny,” I admit with a shrug, and hope he can’t see how much he’s affecting me. The way my heart is in overdrive, but the rest of my body has slowed. The way the warmth of his hand has me wishing he could touch me everywhere. And how the thought of him touching me everywhere has a heavy heat pooling between my thighs.

I continue to check his hair even though I’ve finished. He means he could do everythingphysicalwith me. That hewouldn’t regret a single thing if we crossed the lines of friendship over to something more.

But I’d want more than physical. I’d want all of him. So as much as I’d love to indulge myself in Chase, I know better. I know what sleeping with him would do to me, but he’s so damn tempting. My gaze dips to his mouth. Why couldn’t he have been a bad kisser?

“Candace?” Chase asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

I dare to look at him. “Hmm?”

His hand is still on my leg, my knees weakening with every brush of his thumb. “Are you done?”

My eyes dip to his lips again. I don’t want to be done. If anything, I hope I’m just getting started.

twenty-nine

---