Page 111 of How to Prevent a Fumble

I smile, despite being a little uncomfortable at his words, and Leo wraps his arm around me, holding me to him.

“May I interrupt for a moment?” Zhuri asks, holding a professional camera. Where she got it, I have no idea. Maybe she has a big bag somewhere that she holds absolutely everything she could possibly need at any moment.

“No, I was just heading out,” the man, Edward, states as he heads past us.

“We need a photo,” Zhuri states blandly when he leaves.

“Okay, just one with us standing together?”

She nods, and Leo and I walk a short distance away to a spot with a little better lighting before he wraps his arm around my waist.

I return the gesture before posing with a smile.

“Now look at each other,” Zhuri demands.

I tip my chin up to meet his eyes, and instantly feel like I’m hit by a jolt of electricity. So much so that I almost break eye contact to look around and see if anyone else felt the same. Maybe there’s an electricity issue in the building…

“You guys are really selling it with these, thank god,” Zhuri says quietly, and I chuckle.

Because I’m not trying to sell it.

I’m not trying at all.

Thirty minutes later and I find myself in the small clearing in the middle of a makeshift dance floor, the DJ playing some old romantic song I’d probably hear on one of my mom’s favorite CDs, with Leo’s arms wrapped around me.

“What can I do to make you feel more comfortable?” he asks, watching as I look around for the others.

“I’m not uncomfortable.”

He doesn’t look too convinced.

“I just don’t know how to act around you.”

A deep V settles between his brows. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been so nice to me, Leo. I don’t know what you expect of me.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t expect anything of you, Briar. I just want you to be happy and comfortable.”

My heart rate spikes as we sway to the beat, his hand feeling warmer and warmer at the small of my back. “I just, I?—”

The only excuse for my next action is that I blacked out, and something else overtook my body. Surely, that’s what happened. At least, that’s the story I’m going with.

Because the next thing I know, I’m lunching forward, capturing Leo’s lips with mine.

And before I feel the floor drop out from under me like we’re on one of those zero gravity rides Owen and I loved as kids, Leo’s hand is at the base of my neck, his lips taking control as he deepens the kiss. His hand tugs at my waist, bringing me closer, my chest pressing against his as his other hand tightens around the base of my skull.

But for someone who thinks they blacked out, I can sure feel everything. Every little inch of Leo seems to be pressed against me, and I’m far too aware of the way his lips form perfectly to mine, the taste of chocolate on his tongue.

I melt into him, the feeling of comfort overwhelming me. Because I don’t care that we’re in a room full of people. I don’t care that my brother is across the room. I don’t care that there will probably be videos of this plastered across social media tomorrow.

Further than that,scarierthan that, I want more.

But Leo pulls away far too soon, resting his foreheadagainst mine as I fight for oxygen. His eyes search mine, scorching. “What was that?” he asks, unsure.

I don’t know,I want to say.

“A kiss,” I manage to mutter.

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