Page 129 of Blood and Buttercups

I’m mostly asleep when the bed shifts. I pry my eyes open and find Noah sitting next to me, his hair wet, wearing a new T-shirt and jeans.

“You have clothes here?” I ask groggily.

He rubs his hand over my shoulder, touching me like we’re closer than we are—like we’re at the beginning of a romance and not at the end of a business relationship. “Cassian and I have a complicated friendship.”

I roll over so I can look up at him. “I’ve noticed.”

He smiles down at me, so handsome it hurts. He’s my own brand of perfection, from his dark hair to his amber eyes, his strong build and stingy smile.

And I can’t have him.

“I’m clean now,” he says, his face solemn but his eyes bright.

I pinch the short sleeve of his shirt between my thumb and forefinger. “I noticed that, too.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“You’re proud of me?”

“For facing Ethan. For saving your friend.”

“I thought you’d be mad.”

He shakes his head, moving his hand to my face and brushing back my hair. “It was brave.” A wry smile flickers across his face. “But next time, why don’t you discuss it with me first?”

“I’ll definitely do that when I have to confront my next stalker.”

His smile is so affectionate, so warm. I give his shirt a little tug, just a suggestion—a soft, feather-like plea.

You can kiss me if you want to.

He contemplates me for several seconds, indecision flickering in his eyes, and then he lowers his head.

I close my eyes when his lips press against mine. They’re warm, firm yet yielding,perfect.

And gone too soon.

“Noah,” I say when he pulls back, running my hand over his soft cotton sleeve. “You know you don’t have to kiss me if it bothers you.”

He gives me an incredulous look. “Why would it bother me?”

“Because I’m…infected.” I swallow, suddenly feeling emotional. “Gross.”

“You will never be gross to me,” he vows.

Feeling vulnerable, I whisper, “You swear?”

“I swear. My attraction matches my affection. I like youandI want you.”

I search his honeyed eyes. “Then…show me.”

Noah’s expression becomes shadowed. I think he’s going to sit back, but instead, he wraps his hands around my waist and pulls me onto his lap, positioning me so we’re facing.

Our mouths meet, gentle at first, tentative, both of us a little nervous and out of practice. We spark and smolder, pull back, kiss again, lips closed, sweetly chaste.

But then…we catch fire.

“Noah,” I breathe.

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