Page 65 of Runaway Bride and Prejudice

“I don’t get it. What do you have against Keanu Reeves? The only thing I can think of is jealousy.”

“You think I’m jealous? I’m not jealous. I just think he sucks at his job.”

I navigate to the search area, driven by a crazed need for Van to understand the error of his ways, but he plucks the remote from my hand and holds it up. I reach for it, but he lifts his arm above his head.

“Van.”

“Mills.”

“Give me the remote.”

“No.”

Without stopping to consider any of the consequences, I launch myself into his lap, holding his arm still with one hand and grasping for the remote in the other.

“Mills,” he says, too easily passing the remote from one hand to the other. He grunts when I lean over, my knee going into his stomach. “No more Keanu. You’re cut off.”

Just as I grab his other arm, he flicks his wrist and sends the remote skittering over the tile floor. The back pops off and the batteries fall out. One rolls under the armchair as we both watch, me still sprawled over him, one hand still curled around his forearm.

But when our heads turn back to each other, we seem to realize at the same time how close we are.

I am draped over his lap, one hand still gripping his forearm while the other is flat on his bare chest. Our faces are just inches apart.

And just like the brief moment in the ocean last night where the tension spun a tight web around us, everything slips away. There’s only Van, his breath catching as his gaze drops to my lips. And me, trying to ignore the rising heat making me think stupid thoughts.

Thoughts about kissing him.

Thoughts about rebounds and what Morgan said about timing.

Thoughts about almost making huge mistakes marrying the wrong person.

Van’s eyes meet mine, and I swear, I see conflict there, mirroring my own.

Is he afraid of my dad? Worried about the timing of this as well?

Or maybe this is just physical attraction for him, not the bigger thing I’m feeling.

In a move so quick I don’t have time to react, Van flips us. I’m on my back, hands pinned above my head as he hovers a safe distance above me.

Too safe.

I want him closer. I want his mouth on mine. I want to not worry about whether this is too much or too soon.

“What do you want to do?” he rasps.

My brain has a mild aneurysm at the thought of answering him honestly. “W-what?”

“Today. We’ve done enough Keanu-ing today. Time to venture out into the real world. I know I’ve said you get to make the rules and this is all your choice, but you need a nudge out of the nest.”

“Are you a mama bird in this analogy?”

He ignores me. “We’re going to get out of this room and do something you want to do. Tell me what you want.”

I’m sure he doesn’t intend for his words to have double meaning, but I can’t stop my thoughts from spiraling out into a lot of things I want … but probably shouldn’t have.

“Do you think they have zip lining around here? I’ve always wanted to go. Drew has a thing about heights so he vetoed it.”

“Of course he did,” Van mutters, and I want to kick myself because the mention of Drew shifted the air in the room.

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