Page 40 of Catching Feelings

“I understand your schedule is tight, Miles. I can ask Kendall to come—” She trips over a root and I grab on to her hip to keep her from falling.

The momentum of going downhill and her almost face-planting has us both tripping over our feet for a few steps, but I keep us upright. Granted, the only way to do that is to hold her closer to my chest.

We’re breathing rapidly when we stop, and the rise and fall of her breasts against my chest has me going from semi-hard to full fucking throttle.

“You okay?” I tip her head back and brush the hair out of her face.

We’ve hugged. We’ve been close before, but never like this. Never with her front plastered against mine. Never with her flawless face tipped up and our mouths only inches apart.

My gaze drops to her mouth and her tongue darts out, moistening her lips.

Fuck. Me. Now.

She did that on purpose. She had to have. My cock twitches in my shorts and her eyes widen.

Shit. I’m scaring the poor woman. I drop my arms and take a step back, shoving my hands in the front pockets of my shorts in the hopes of hiding how easily she gets my dick to react to her.

“Sorry about that.” She rights her tank top, not that it was wrong, and laughs. “I’m not usually that clumsy.”

“Tripping over a root is hardly clumsy.” I spot a couple long sticks a few feet off the trail and grab them, offering her the shorter one. “Walking sticks.”

I thump the longer one into the ground and toss my head to the left. “We’re almost to the bottom. Feel like grabbing a bite to eat before we head back to the city?” I ask, pretending like feeling her body so close to mine didn’t work me the hell up.

“Lunch?” she asks once we start our way down the mountain again.

“Yeah, you know, that meal between breakfast and your pre-dinner meal.”

“Exactly how many meals a day do you eat?”

“Five. Doesn’t everyone?”

“No.” She laughs. “I take it your fifth is your post-dinner meal?”

“No, silly.” I tap her walking stick with mine. “The post-dinner meal is called dessert. The fifth meal is what you eat before you go to bed.”

“No way. Ice cream is what you eat before you go to bed.”

“Yeah? What flavor?”

“I’m a mood eater so it depends.”

Fuck. Me. Now. Why does my cock interpret everything that comes out of her mouth as something delectably filthy?

“Tell me about these moods and the flavors they match with.”

“You first.”

“I’m not a mood eater.”But I’m always in the mood to eat you.Fuck. Down, boy. “You can never go wrong with mint chocolate chip.”

Rowan snorts. Literally snorts, then covers her mouth with her hand.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. But mint chocolate chip is definitely you.”

“Do explain.”

“It’s fun, light, yet has a flash of decadence.”

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