Page 41 of Mitch

“I just... this is all new for me. I like you too, I think. I just?—”

Mitchell’s thumb ran rhythmically over my knuckles, making me feel like everything was going to be okay.

Somehow, this bright, new world of feeling and attraction didn’t seem so scary.

Because when I looked at him, I feltseen.

Like for the first time in my life, someonegot me.

My gaze dipped to his lips, then his dark, fiery eyes.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I...” I swallowed, wondering if I reallycouldbe honest with him.

And myself.

Saying it out loud meant it was real.

That the reality I once knew was over.

I’d shatter my own glass ceiling, but maybe... maybe that’s what I needed.

To emerge from my cocoon and embrace the unknown.

I squeezed his hand as I took a deep breath.

It was now or never.

I scooted closer, the motion putting me right between his legs. “I kind of want to kiss you,” I whispered.

Mitchell smiled, and it was soft. Sweet.

His eyes glittered in the amber light of the bar. “Then kiss me,” he said, his voice dark and gravelly. “I won’t stop you.”

My entire body felt alive with fear, desire, and curiosity. It wouldn’t be the first kiss we shared, but up until that moment, I’d rationed it was the alcohol that pushed me to act so brazenly the last time.

But there was no denying the truth, when without an ounce of alcohol in either of our systems, the desire was just as maddening, just as overwhelming as it had been before.

And that changed everything.

I slowly leaned into his space, mybreath shaking as I did so.

Mitchell met me halfway, cocking his head to the side, his breath low and heavy as he whispered, “I’ll never stop you.”

I closed the distance between us, ghosting my lips against his, closing them against his bottom lip. His lips were soft against mine, not rough or harsh, and he stayed still as a statue, waiting.

Waiting for me to make the jump.

I settled my free hand on his neck, feeling his pulse beneath my fingertips, the rush of blood and warmth. I moved my lips slowly against him, acclimating to the taste and feel of him. When I was drunk, all I could remember was theheat.His tongue accosting mine, the deep groans that left our throats, and our raging alcohol-fueled boners.

But this kiss wasn’t like that at all. I gripped his neck a little tighter, sliding my fingers back in his hair as I probed his lips with my tongue.

And then the throat clearing “ahem” of the bartender with our food reminded me where we were, and what we were really doing. I broke away, heat flushingmy cheeks.

“Hungry?” he asked with the sexiest grin I think I’ve ever seen.

“Um... starving,” I said as I turned back in my chair toward my leaning tower of appetizers, feeling a new sort of hunger that had nothing to do with wings and mozzarella sticks.

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