Page 52 of Her Football Star Ex

We looked at each other for another long moment, and then, before I could lose my nerve, I placed my hands on his shoulders, stood on my tiptoes, and pressed my lips to his.

And just like I remembered, his lips were soft and warm and tasted of his minty Chapstick.

I was just getting used to the sensation of my lips sparking to life against his after so long when he pulled away. I held still, not opening my eyes, hoping he’d come back again.

But he didn’t.

That was it?

Had he really only been humoring me and a few seconds was all he could take?

My ego a little bruised, I lowered myself back down to my heels and looked at him with searching eyes.

“Was it really that horrible, then?” I asked, my face burning with humiliation. Because if he could barely stand to kiss me for two seconds, it was no wonder that we hadn’t worked out.

But to my surprise, his brow knitted together as if he was confused by my question. He said, “No. Didyouthink it was horrible?”

“No. I thought it was okay,” I said, relief beginning to pulse through me. And feeling a little more confident that he wasn’t about to scrub my kiss off his lips with soap and water, I ventured to say, “But you pulled away really fast, so now I’m worried that you equate kissing me on the same level as kissing your great aunt Mazie.”

“Kissing great aunt Mazie?” He wrinkled his nose. “Definitely not like that at all.”

I frowned. “Then why did you pull away so soon? I thought we were going for a memorable last kiss here. Not another forgettable one.”

“Yeah, we were…” He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “I guess I’m just a little rusty and maybe a little nervous.”

He was nervous?

Why did that alone make me feel about a million times better?

“Well,” I said. “If you’re rusty, then so am I since it’s been the same length of time for me as it’s been for you.” At least, according to what he’d told me, it didn’t sound like he’d kissed anyone else since our divorce.

“I promise I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad with the brevity of that kiss.” He let his hand drop to his side. “Do you think we should give it another try? Now that we’ve gotten the first one out of the way?”

“Yeah.” I licked my lips as anticipation filled me again. “For memory’s sake, I think we probably should.”

“Okay,” he said. “Just go easy on my ego, okay? Every athlete needs time to warm up first.”

I nodded, but any response I had to his last sentence got lost on its way from my brain to my lips when he stepped closer, slipped an arm behind my waist, and slowly ran his thumb across my lips.

Ok, wow. Maybe all he really did need was that warm-up. Because this was definitely more like what I remembered from him.

My heart thumped hard against my ribs. I tried to tell my heart to calm down, because he was only turning up the charm to make this memorable and not because he had actual feelings for me, but my heart didn’t want to listen. It wanted this to be real for some stupid reason that I didn’t understand.

“Are you ready to make a memory?” he whispered, his warm breath caressing my lips.

If I hadn’t caught the slight shake in his voice I never would have guessed that he was nervous about this, too.

It really was like being sixteen again, wasn’t it? Sixteen and about to kiss the hot guy at school who everyone knew was way out of my league.

“I’m ready.” And before I could think another thought, Vincent closed the distance between our lips.

I gasped, somewhat caught off guard. But his hand cupped my neck, steadying me and pulling me closer as he coaxed my lips to move slowly with his. And even though it was much the same as the kiss before, it was also different. He kissed me gently, his lips lingering and coaxing mine to move with his. And when he finished one kiss, he came right back and kissed me again.

He kissed me as if I was fragile and he didn't want to break me. Whatever rustiness he’d claimed to have earlier must have worn off in the first few seconds, because this man clearly remembered how to kiss me the way I liked to be kissed. And the slowness of the kiss made my stomach twist and shake with pleasure I hadn’t felt in such a long time.

I could barely draw in a decent breath as his warm lips caused crackles of electricity that sparked mine to life again. And suddenly, I never wanted this last kiss to stop. It felt much too good to be so close to Vincent with his lips capturing mine between his.

So before he could get any ideas of ending our final kiss before I’d had enough, I let my hands trace their way up his arms to rest behind his neck. He was so tall that he was almost bent in half to kiss me. I raised myself up on my toes to help him out, and he reacted by pulling me closer and wrapping his arms tightly around me.

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