Page 80 of The Ruse

It may have taken a full week where I’d completely bombed the kissing scene, but I’d finally been able to make it through.

“It wasn’t even that bad, was it?” he asked.

“No.” My cheeks warmed, suddenly shy to talk about how un-horrible it had been kissing him again. “It wasn’t bad. I think I just got stuck in my head about it for some reason.”

“Well, you did amazing.” He pulled me into his arms for a hug.

“Thank you,” I said, returning his embrace.

His hand rubbed along my back. “Just do what you just did next time, and Miss Crawley will be impressed.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Now would probably be the time to step away from the hug and move on to the next thing. But he didn’t step away and neither did I.

We just stood there for a long moment, holding each other as we rode the high of finally finishing the scene that had been stressing me out all week.

And I didn’t know what it was about hugging Asher, but it just felt…nice. He was tall and strong and smelled really good. Not like he was wearing cologne or anything like that, but his shirt smelled clean—like he’d just done a load of laundry. And there was possibly a hint of aftershave on his face as well.

I liked it.

Liked that he was the kind of guy who had to shave.

A memory of the way his five o’clock shadow had felt under my fingertips the first time we’d kissed flashed through my mind, and I realized I should have known then that I couldn’t have been kissing the person I’d set out to kiss.

I should have known the moment our lips touched that I was kissing someone with a different kind of energy to him.

The kind of energy that I’d never been able to resist.

“You’re a good hugger,” Asher whispered in a quiet voice next to my ear.

“Am I?” I asked, trying not to notice the way his hot breath sent chills racing from my head to my toes.

“Yeah.” He tilted his head down so his cheek rested against mine. “I think that’s part of why I kissed you back last week. Because it felt nice to be close to someone again.”

“Yeah?” I asked, feeling breathless as he spoke about the moment that had crossed my mind way more than it should have. “H-have you thought about that kiss very much?”

“A few times…” He bent his face down closer to my neck, as if smelling the perfume I’d sprayed there this morning. He pressed a gentle kiss to my skin. “Have you?”

“Huh?” I asked, a little dazed. The way his lips felt against my skin was making me forget what we were talking about.

“Have you thought about it at all this week?” His lips gently grazed against the sensitive skin of my collarbone, muddling my thoughts even more.

What was he doing to me?

“Ummm.” I drew in a shallow breath, suddenly finding it so hard to breathe.

Did he know what he was doing to me right now?

Did he know that every single nerve ending in my body was buzzing?

One of his hands smoothed up and down my side and across my back. “Because it’s okay if you thought about it,” he whispered in my ear. “I won’t tell anyone…”

Oh my heck, I was going to faint.

Could he tell that I’d been dreaming about that kiss all week?

Had he somehow hacked into my brain and seen all the times I’d fantasized about kissing him again in a way that was definitely not the type of kiss meant for others to watch on stage?

---