Page 43 of The Ruse

He turned around to face me. And before I could chicken out or even wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips against his.

He didn’t immediately respond to the kiss. He just stood still for a moment, as if unsure what was going on. For a terrifying moment, I was tempted to run away and hide before he could realize it was me.

But then I remembered Cambrielle saying that Nash liked me. I remembered how he’d been looking at me all night, and so I forced myself to hold the kiss. To give him a few more seconds to realize what was going on and to respond.

He was back lit, so I couldn’t see his features, but if his eyes were open, he’d be able to see that it was me who had surprised him and not someone else.

“Elyse?” he asked, his surprise making his voice sound different than usual.

“Yes,” I whispered, only then daring to open my eyes again.

It was still too dark for me to see the features of his face, but I really hoped he wasn’t angry or offended that I’d just gone in for the kiss.

After a few excruciating seconds where he still wasn’t saying anything, I whispered, “Did I interpret everything wrong and just mess everything up?”

“No,” he said, like he was only just now realizing what was going on. He mumbled, “You didn’t mess anything up.” And then, just like he’d done in my fantasies so many times, Nash slipped one hand up the side of my neck until he was gently cupping my face. His hand was colder than I’d expected, but I loved it because it was the most intimate moment we’d had so far.

My eyes fluttered shut, and a second later, he was kissing me.

Nash Hastings, the guy I’d dreamed of kissing for a month, was finally kissing me. And it was amazing. His lips were soft but sure, and when he gently tugged on my bottom lip with his teeth, I had to hold onto him to stay upright.

I let my hand slip up his chest where his coat was open and across his neck until my thumb could trace along his jaw.

I’d expected his jawline to be smooth, since everyone always made fun of Nash for only needing to shave once a year, but my thumb chaffed against what felt like a five o’clock shadow.

So he did need to shave after all. I must not have noticed it before because of how light his facial hair was.

But I liked the feel of it. Liked that I was learning something new about him that I hadn’t known before this moment.

He must have liked the sensation of my thumb running along his strong jawline because he pulled me closer against him and let his fingers comb through the hair at my nape. And it felt so good. So good that tingles raced all the way down to my toes.

“I was so scared,” I whispered between kisses, feeling slightly breathless. “But I’m so glad I came outside.”

He didn’t say anything back. But he didn’t need to, because the way his lips moved with mine—slow, unhurried, and in a rhythm that made my heart erratic—told me everything I needed to know.

He was glad I’d taken the step, too.

I never knew that ten seconds of courage could change your life. But this small moment might have changed everything for Nash and me.

I was just noticing his cologne and how it was different from the one he usually wore when I heard the front door creak open behind Nash, followed by footsteps on the wooden porch floor.

I opened my eyes to see who had joined us, and that was when I noticed a shock of blond hair under the light.

Wait, what?

I stumbled backward when I got a better look at the guy who’d just come outside. How was this possible?

“Who are you?” I asked the boy before me when I realized he couldn’t be Nash since Nash had just come through the door.

“It’s me, Asher,” he said quietly, sounding genuinely confused. “Didn’t you know it was me?”

I’d been kissing Asher?

I’d just been making out with the one guy in the drama department who Nash would never get over me kissing?

“Why would I kiss you?” I asked, panic causing my throat to constrict. But since I only had a split second before Nash would look our way and see that I’d been kissing his enemy, I didn’t wait for Asher’s answer. Instead, I ran for the back door.

I hurried up the stairs to the loft, not caring that people were giving me weird looks. I rushed to the bed where Cambrielle was on her phone, probably texting Mack.

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