Page 25 of His Secret Gift

“No problem.”

If I knew she was paying, I would’ve gone for a less expensive gin. Although it wasn’t the costliest one to choose from… at least.

After leaving the restaurant, we just stand outside in the light of a streetlamp.

“Thanks again for dessert.”

“Of course.”

I wish I had a coat to offer her. I can see her goosebumps.

“Well, I should probably get back.” She says after turning away for a second.

“Right. Of course.” I nod.

“Goodbye, Jack.”

“Goodbye, Kayla.”

She turns again, but when she starts to walk, she stumbles.

Instinctively, I reach out and bring her to me—my arms around her waist, and her chest flush against mine.

Her breath is uneven, and she stares up at me.

A surge of desire courses through me, making my heart race as I lean in closer, our lips mere inches apart. I can feel the warmth of her breath against my skin, and suddenly, all rational thought evaporates. All that matters is this moment, this connection, this undeniable attraction.

But just as our lips are about to meet, my phone rings, shattering the spell. The harsh sound jolts me back to reality, and I quickly release Kayla, stepping back as if burned by the intensity of our almost-kiss.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” I mutter, before helping her back to her feet, pulling away from her, and then fumbling with my phone as I shoot her an apologetic glance.

She blinks rapidly and puts her hand on top of her head. “Of course.”

Chapter 8

Maria – Kayla

“Idid something really bad,” I confess to Molly later on the boat.

“Already? Good for you!” Although she sounds excited, I am anything but.

My serious tone remains unwavering. “Molly.”

“What?”

I peek outside of my cabin to make sure that nobody is within earshot.

When I ensure that there is not, I close the door, sit on my bed, and chew on my nails. “I almost kissed him.”

“I’m sorry, what? I couldn’t hear you with your fingers in your mouth.”

She knows me too well.Removing them, I repeat, “I almost kissed him.”

She gasps. “That’s what I was hoping you were going to say. Who’s he?”

“Jack Shelley,” I whisper.

She gasps yet again. “No.”

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