Page 39 of Captured Heart

“Make me,” I retort.

I twist my wrist out of his grip the way he showed me yesterday, and he’s pleasantly surprised that I freed myself so fast.

“Good job,” he says.

“The student has surpassed the master.”

“I wouldn’t go that f—”

He’s silenced when another handful is flung his way. Some hit his forehead, one lands in his mouth. He’s not impressed.

That’s the last straw. He lunges for the bowl, scooping up a handful and tossing it right back at me. I squeal, scrambling to shield myself with a couch cushion, but it’s no use. The nextfew minutes are pure chaos—popcorn flying everywhere, my laughter ringing out in the small room.

Alex is surprisingly fast, dodging my throws with ease, but I’m relentless. “Are you ready to surrender?” I tease, launching another handful his way.

“I don’t even know what this fight is over,” he fires back, a hint of amusement in his voice. “What exactly am I surrendering?”

“Your stoicism.”

“Yeah, that’s not a thing I can surrender.”

“Of course, it is. And I, as the legendary Droll Troll, will get a smile out of you come hell or high water.”

I grab another handful, but he tackles me to the ground, his strong hands gripping my wrists to stop me from tossing the last few pieces. He hovers over me, his solid weight pressing into me just enough to hold me still without crushing me.

“You never taught me how to get out of this one,” I say, sounding breathless.

His heated gaze skims over my face, moving lower to settle on my lips. And then it just stays there. “Do you want to get out?”

The barely audible whisper vibrates against my lips, the same lips he’s still staring at. The playful atmosphere evaporates in an instant, replaced by something heavier, something electric. His dark eyes lock on mine, and my breath hitches.

I’m acutely aware of every point of contact. His hands on my wrists, my breasts rubbing against him with each rise and fall of my chest. His face is so close I can see the faint stubble along his jaw, the tension in his clenched teeth.

“No.”

All the things my friends said earlier ring in my head.

Corey saying that Alex was so persistent.

Zayn saying that Alex has got it bad for me.

Karmani saying that Alex probably won’t make a move because he’s scared of rejection.

And it’s not just them, it’s him. We spoke for over an hour at the gym yesterday, and he followed it up with a long phone call last night. We spoke for three hours today. That must mean something, right? People don’t create connections like that out of thin air.

Despite the nervousness fluttering in my stomach, I take the leap...and make the first move.

My heart pounds as I lift my head to press my lips against his. He freezes, his eyes widening as his entire body stiffens above me. For a second—a fleeting, solitary second—I feel his tongue skim my lower lip, but then he abruptly pulls away.

“Katie...uh...” His voice is rough, and he quickly releases my wrists, shifting back to move off me. “We shouldn’t.”

Embarrassment causes my throat to clog, and my next words come out as a choked whisper. “Why not?”

He runs a heavy hand over his head, then down his face. “Because it’ll complicate things. Look, your life is going along just fine. It’s structured. It’s stable. It’s...predictable. And you don’t need someone like me coming in and fucking all that up. Trust me, you don’t want to get involved with a guy like me. I’m no good for you. It’s better if...if we stay friends.”

That stings more than I want to admit, and I nod, sitting up and brushing popcorn off my sweater. “Friends. Yes. Sure. Of course.”

“If this is because of what I said in the kitchen, I’m sorry you took that the wrong way...but I told you I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”

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