Page 20 of Don't Puck Your Best Friend’s Girl

"I broke up with Byron because…" I start, then trail off, uncertain whether I should share this part of myself with him.

"Because?" he prompts gently.

Tears threaten again, and I struggle to hold them back, embarrassed by my own emotional fragility. "He…" The words stick in my throat. "He…"

"He?" Cade's voice pulls me from my spiraling thoughts.

"I went to his place…" I force the words out, "and I was wearing this really cute red lingerie set for him… and he wouldn't get off his video game. He didn't care…so I left and broke up with him the next day."

Cade lets out a soft sound, somewhere between a sigh and a huff. "Does he know this?"

I shrug, trying to appear more nonchalant than I feel. "It doesn't matter. Things haven't been the same for weeks. He barely touches me."

His expression remains carefully neutral, making it impossible to read his thoughts. The silence stretches between us, growing heavy.

"Say something," I plead, needing reassurance that I'm not crazy for feeling hurt, for needing to be wanted.

"It sounds like we have something in common," he says finally.

I stare at him, trying to decipher his meaning. What could we possibly have in common?

"You're funny," he says, watching my confusion with amusement. "We both wanted love, but our significant others didn't give it to us."

"What does that say about us?" I ask.

He shrugs, his eyes never leaving mine. "What does it say?"

I meet his gaze, emotions swirling inside me like a kaleidoscope — anger, attraction, curiosity, caution — all shifting and changing with each breath. If we have something like this in common, could I have completely misjudged him? As I stare at him, IknowI've completely misjudged him. I think about all the times I scoffed or had a smart-ass remark to what he said. A lot of the times I would walk away when he came around. Did I hate him so much because we're so similar? My heartbeat echoes in my ears, loud enough that I wonder if he can hear it too. His eyes stay on mine, and the air between us isn't awkward anymore.

He admits he wants love and attention, and a part of me wonders if that's my problem too. Have I never met someone who could give me the love and attention I need? And God, the way his gaze softens at our silence.

He glances at my lips, and suddenly I'm only in this moment. Only he exists. Only his attention matters.

On impulse, I lean in.

To my surprise, he doesn’t pull away. If he pulls away, I will fucking die. I will leave this room, go into my bed, and never see the light of day ever again. I’m inching near his face, not thinking about anything but him.

"What does it say about us, Cade?" I whisper, my mouth nearly touching his.

Even this close, I feel the intensity of his gaze, see the gold in his irises, the slight dilation of his pupils.

My lips gently brush his. So smooth and new. His lips part as our faces make room for each other’s.

“Saylor,” he murmurs my name seductively. And I can’t help but to close the thread of a distance.

I kiss him, the smoothness of his lips causing tingles across my mouth. This kiss is cautionary, a question. I don’t even know how we got here but it feels too damn good to back out now. My pelvis is throbbing strongly, urging me to press further.

He doesn't respond at first, but I give it my best shot. Then his hand cups my face as he kisses me back. I exhale, not knowing that I've been drowning until he gave me air. Now, I need more.

I climb onto his lap and press my body against his as he breathes in my mouth. His other hand presses against my waist, and I moan slightly under his touch. I know I hate this man, but I've never been kissed like this. Never been accepted like this.

He stands, holding me strongly. I love that he can hold me like I weigh nothing. He places my back on the bed, and my pussy starts pulsing deeply, aching to feel his dick through his pants. He keeps his hips away from mine, so I focus on the sensation of kissing him. He has to be hard, right? I wrap my legs around his waist and try to pull him down.

"Is this considered taking advantage of you?" I ask, suddenly remembering his words earlier.

He breaks the kiss, raising himself to look down at me. His pupils are blown wide.

"Saylor," he says my name like a prayer, like a warning, like a question he's afraid to answer. "What are we doing?"

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