Page 49 of Sincerely, Your Enemy

“You’re not going to make a fool of yourself. Just remember who the fuck you are, and you’ll be fine.”

I crack a smile, glancing down at my feet. “A broke college student slash single mom with mommy issues?”

He laughs. “A beautiful, stubborn, math-loving badass who sacrificed everything to take care of her family.”

Oh my God.

Why do I feel like I could melt into a puddle when he says things like that?

The next few seconds consist of unwavering staring and a herd of violent butterflies rampaging through my stomach.

“So… about that kiss. What would you do?” he circles back to his first question.

I make sure to think on it before answering.

“I guess I would kiss him back? Hopefully, I haven’t lost my skills since high school.” I meant it as a joke, but he doesn’t laugh.

“I assure you, your skills are very much intact.”

He would know, being the first guy I’ve made out with in over a year.

“What if he touches you?” he adds, the possibility making my head spin. Kissing Aaron is one thing, letting him touch me is another. I’m not even sure I like him.

“Touches me how?”

I expected a quick description. I sure as hell didnotexpect his hand to wrap around my hip.

“Like that.” His voice is softer than it was before.

“I… I would let him,” I stammer.

He tightens his grip on my waist and pulls our bodies together.

“And how far would it go?”

I have no clue how I’m supposed to act unbothered with him looking at me like that. If I’m being honest, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen that specific look in his eyes before.

There’s heat.

Desire.

All sorts of urges I’m terrified of sharing.

“That depends on how well the date went. And if we’re looking for the same thing.”

It makes him smile. “And what it is you’re looking for exactly?”

“Something real.”

He cringes. “Hate to be the one to say it, Mattson, but from what I’ve seen so far, Aaron isn’t going to be that guy for you.”

I know that. I think I’ve known that since the day I met Aaron.

I make the mistake of glancing at TJ’s lips as he speaks. I didn’t mean to, but it’s as though as soon as he notices my focus clinging to his mouth, his eyes follow, zeroing in on my lips, too.

“You’re right. He might not be,” I say quietly.

He doesn’t answer.

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