Page 95 of A Little Tempting

Just say it. Say it and get it over with.

“Everett told me he was most definitely the culprit behind the kiss at the party.”

His brows raise in surprise. “Everett told you he’s your Cinderfella?”

“Yup.” With a pathetic laugh, I pick up one of the hoodie strings and rub it along my bottom lip. “But you were right. It was only a kiss. A very stupid, very meaningless kiss.”

He hesitates and inches closer. “Only a kiss, huh?”

I gulp past the sharp pain in my sternum, unable to look at him. To see his amusement or pity or secondhand embarrassment when we both know how hung up I was on the said kiss.

“Yeah,” I mumble.

“No offense, but I don’t think any kiss with you is meaningless, Dylan Thorne.” The rasp in his voice skates over my skin, causing my pathetic heart to skip a beat as the memory of another kiss rises to the surface. A kiss meant to prove a point. To prove chemistry’s chemistry, and I can’t help but wonder how many girls he’s felt it with. How many girls he’s left swooning over him. How many girls he’s swept off their feet like he could so easily do with me. I peek up at him, and my breath hitches.

He’s so close.

So damn close.

I can feel it. The chemistry. The pull. It’s like a magnet. Astrongmagnet. I want to lean into him. I want to let go of my silly reservations and kiss him. Without fear of rejection or fear of comparison.

What’s real and what isn’t with you, Oliver Reeves?

His gaze falls to my lips as we sit in the dark family room, and I swear I can feel him bending closer until the space between us grows, and a soft exhale hits my ears. “We should get some sleep.”

My brows pull. “Sleep?”

“Yeah.Sleep.”

“Why?”

“Because if you don’t stand up and walk out of this room right now, I’ll kiss you, Dylan Thorne. I’ll kiss you, and I’m sure as fuck not gonna be able to stop.Go. I’ll vacuum in the morning.”

The sting of rejection hits like a lash, and I start to stand when his hand darts out, and he grabs my wrist. “Not a fan of the miscommunication trope, remember?”

Staring at his long fingers, I whisper, “W-what?”

“I said, I’m not a fan of the miscommunication trope.”

I rock back against the couch again, lost. “Okay?”

“Okay, so maybe stop looking at me like I kicked your puppy.”

“We already discussed this,” I remind him. “I don’t have a puppy.”

“And I don’t have the willpower to not kiss you when we already discussed how, for me, a kiss with you isn’t simply a kiss, so stop looking at me like I hurt your feelings by not kissing you two seconds ago.”

My gaze falls to the ground. “Reeves…”

He drags his thumb against the back of my hand, and I swear I can feel it on every inch of me. “If you honestly think you aren’t kissable or I haven’t woken up every morning since our first kiss with a hard-on and jacked off in the shower at the memory of what you tasted like, then I have no problem proving it to you. But let me make one thing clear.” My gaze snaps to his, and the heat in his eyes? The need? It makes me almost combust. “You deserve all of me, Dylan Thorne, and I won’t kiss you again until you have it.” The absence of his touch kills me as he lets my wrist go and leans back on the couch. “Goodnight, Thorne.”

As I brush my fingers against the tender patch of skin he caressed, I whisper, “Goodnight, Reeves.”

25

REEVES

“So, are we gonna talk about it?” I ask as the sun peeks over the horizon. Everett’s in the backyard. His eyes are still bloodshot from last night, his face mottled with bruises as he sips his coffee. He looks like shit. Then again, so do I. I’ve been in a lot of fights in my life and Ev? He can throw down better than the majority of them. My split knuckles flex at the memory as I wait for him to stop being such a tough nut to crack.

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