Page 34 of Finding London

Undoubtedly, this probably isn’t the best way to start a date.

Damn it…I’m going to scare him away. Why am I not capable of shutting my mouth?

He smiles, and it’s a full-on devastating event. Before I can register what’s happening, his strong hands grasp the sides of my face, and he pulls my mouth to his. The second our lips connect, I lose all my pent-up annoyance and will to prove my point.

What was my point? I couldn’t care less.

Nothing feels as right as Loïc’s lips on mine. Nothing. The kiss is soft, void of crazed desire. It’s sweet, communicating apologies and longing. It’s a timid reunion of two souls so desperate to be together yet so close to imploding and finding themselves at a place from which they won’t be able to return.

Loïc and I are on the fine precipice between utopia and a nightmare. We’re at the thin space between unfathomable love and devastating loss. One step in the wrong direction would seal our fate, and we’re too new, too fragile, to come back from it. I’m terrified of making the incorrect move, but the only option for me is to be myself. I’m not capable of anything else.

Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind my earlier outburst because his lips continue to move against mine with such reverence that my chest aches.

When he pulls away, he continues to hold my face in his hands. Our faces are so close that I can see the multiple shades of blue in his eyes.

“We good?” he asks, his deep voice thick with desire.

I nod.

“Good.” He leans in and kisses my forehead. Pulling back, he says with a chuckle, “And what are you wearing?”

“What?” I’m in black shorts and a flirty sleeveless top. “You told me to dress casual.”

“You’re wearing heels.”

“Casual heels, and they match this outfit,” I scoff.

“Heels aren’t casual, London.”

“They are to me,” I protest. “What does it matter?”

“We’re going kayaking. They’re not what I would think of as appropriate footwear for outdoor sports.” He smirks, and it’s so adorable that I want to kiss him again.

“Listen, Berkeley”—I throw out his last name as a warning to the serious nature of choosing an outfit for a date—“if you tell me casual, I’m going to dress that way. Next time, perhaps tell me to dress in attire appropriate for kayaking.” I offer him a glare though it’s empty of annoyance, and he knows it. “So, should I change?”

He shrugs with a grin across his face. “It’s up to you, but I would.”

“Fine. Come on.” I grab his hand and pull him into the house.

Paige is sitting, cross-legged, on one of the couches in the living room. She sports a knowing smile, and I’m sure she just heard everything.

“Loïc, this is my roommate, Paige,” I introduce them.

They’ve seen each other a couple of times—at the car wash and the club—but they’ve never formally met.

They exchange a few words.

“I’m going to go change my outfit. Apparently, it isn’t suitable for all the physical activity that Loïc has planned for me this evening.” My face turns red as soon as the words are out. I meant it as a joke, but I’m painfully aware of the innuendo that came with that statement.

Paige giggles. “Good idea. I have some extra condoms in my top drawer, if you need them.”

My mouth flies open as I shoot a scowl toward my best friend.Brat.

I’m not a prude or anything, but she knows that this is the first time Loïc has actually dated someone, and I don’t want to scare him away.

Thankfully, he’s laughing.

She’s lucky.

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