Page 56 of Lotus

He keeps kissing me for a short while, trailing his fevered tongue down my neck, but I’m already checked out. And Brant realizes this when my arms fall limp at my sides and a defeated breath escapes me.

He pauses with his fingers stalled beneath my top. “I lost you, didn’t I?”

The hard swallow burns my throat. “No, I… I mean, I think I’m just tired. I’m sorry.”

Dammit. Fuck. Shit-fuck.

Brant pulls away, finding my eyes, the truth shining back at him in pools of light blue. He ducks his head, releasing me with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Shit. And here I’m preaching about reading the room…”

“Brant, you read the room right. I was totally planning on climbing you like a tree tonight.”

He takes a step back, and I miss the warmth, but I’m not sure if it’shiswarmth I miss.

Gliding his fingertips through his jet black hair, he puffs his cheeks with a hollow breath and lets it out hard. “It’s cool, Neville. No hard feelings.”

“God, I suck. I’m really sorry,” I spit out, confusion mingling with alcohol and guilt. My palm wraps around his forearm, applying enough pressure to physically transmit my apology. “I swear it’s not you. I’m tired and worried about my niece. Maybe we can do a rain check?”

Brant places a finger beneath my chin, his thumb grazing my jawline as his gaze digs into me, trying to see the bigger picture. A faint smile crosses his lips. “Don’t apologize, Syd. You wear your heart in your eyes, and it’s clearly taken.”

“What? No—”

He presses a kiss to my forehead. “See you next week?”

All I manage is a nod.

Brant shoots me his trademark wink and walks away, tossing his keys in the air and catching them before disappearing into his Highlander.

My feet are stuck to the woodchips that line my house, my jaw aching with tension and words I never got to say.

My heart is taken?What kind of sappy bullshit is that?

Maybe he does suck at reading the room.

Finding my bearings, I push off the bricks and resign myself to a lonely night of junk food and reading as I await updates about Poppy.

That’s fine. Alexis is good company.

Before I make it to the porch, my peripheral vision catches movement to my right. My head swings in the same direction, and my body goes rigid when I spot Oliver sitting on his front stoop, his head bowed, staring down between his knees.

Shit.

We shared an epic kiss, and two days later he sees me making out with my co-worker on my front lawn like a giant sleazeball. I’m theworst.

Oliver isn’t looking at me, but I know he saw. And I know the kiss we shared wasn’t supposed to mean anything, but it clearly meant something to him.

It meant something to me.

Biting down on my bottom lip, I inhale a flimsy breath. “Hey,” I call out, watching his head perk up to find me in the dark. “You’re up late.”

Part of me expects to see animosity. Jealousy. Anger.

But Oliver smiles. He fuckingsmiles, and that feels so much worse.

“I couldn’t sleep. I enjoy listening to the crickets and cicadas when my mind is restless.”

I glance down at my painted toes peeking out of my too-tight stilettos, my arms tucking around myself like armor. “Summer nights are my favorites,” I reply across the adjoined yards. “The cool humidity. The sticky breeze. The sounds of nature, vibrant and alive.”

I’m rambling. I’m talking nonsense at almost midnight, trying to pretend Oliver didn’t witness my tongue in some other guy’s mouth. And I don’t know why, I don’t understand why I feel this bitter coil of guilt weaving itself around my fragile insides, but Ido.

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