Page 62 of Passenger Princess

"All right, again," he says before he makes me run through it a few more times until I feel like I understand the move and all of the variations of it.

"Okay, now we're going to run through some scenarios," Jaime says an hour or so later.

"What?"

But instead of responding, Jaime goes right into it, grabbing me by my ponytail, which he told me is the most dangerous hairstyle for a woman, and expecting me to get out of it. Wefight, and I use the moves he taught me, but this time, it's clear he's not playing or in teaching mode—this time, I have to actually fight to make the moves he showed me before he approves, and we move into a wrist release and then a bear hug. I'm panting and sweating by the time I get out of his second bear hug move, and then I trip, falling to the ground and catching myself on my hands.

And then he's on top of me, rolling me over until I'm pinned beneath his body.

This, attached to the panicky adrenaline from trying to escape this "attacker" over and over, should spike something in me: fear and panic.

But it does the exact opposite, flooding me with lust that I can't tamp down. My chest is heaving, and so is his as he looms over me.

I wait for his instruction, but it doesn’t come, instead, he just continues to hover over me, eyes assessing, dozens of thoughts moving behind those eyes.

And with every other heartbeat, his gaze stops on my lips like he’s weighing the pros and cons of leaning down. It wouldn't take much at all for his lips to be on mine, to once more experience the momentary bliss that was Jaime kissing me.

He said it was a mistake, that we shouldn’t have kissed, that it caused distractions…but I don’tcare. I don’t care if it makes me lose the crown or fucks up this entire tour.

I want Jaime Wilde in a way that supersedes every bit of logic.

"Kiss me," I whisper without really thinking.

"What?"

"Kiss me," I repeat.

"Ava—"

"Say fuck it and kiss me, Jaime. I’m so into you, I can barely breathe even though I know you're theone personI shouldn't be thinking about."

"Ava—"

"I know it's crazy, but you know there's something there. Why else would you spend your entire day off renting out astudio to teach me this? Touching me all day, driving me insane." His pupils flare with lust, and I see it there: a silent confession. “That kiss wasn’t a mistake, and you know it. Admit you like me.” Time passes like molasses as I wait for his response.

"I like you enough to not want something bad to happen to you. I like you enough to want to keep you safe beyond it being my job. But I also like you enough to not want to fuck this opportunity up for you and to know we can’t act on whatever chemistry is between us."

Hope and excitement bloom in my chest. "We could, you know," I whisper, holding his eyes in the mirror. I expect him to play dumb, but instead, he shakes his head, holding my gaze all the same.

"The other day proved we can’t. You're my charge, and I need to stay focused. And you're supposed to stay single."

"Oh, sweet boy," I say, reaching up and patting him on the cheek, then leaving it there, letting my thumb brush his full bottom lip. It should be illegal for a man to have such perfect lips.

"What are they going to do, take my crown? The best part about me and about this entire gig is I'm not in it for the crown or the title. I was in it to help my friends, and now I'm sticking it out for the adventure and because I'm stubborn." I let time pass—moments or maybe hours. I'm unsure how long before I whisper it. "Kiss me, Jaime."

"Ava," he whispers, but he doesn't say no and doesn't back away.

"You said you’re the one who kisses me every single time. So do it."

He seems to contemplate my words, then slowly, so fucking slowly I think I'm hallucinating it, one hand moves, rough callouses scraping up the delicate skin of my neck until he's cupping my jaw and moving down toward me, his lips barely grazing mine.

Then a knock comes on the door, his head jerking up. The moment is broken before he moves. He stands quickly and offers me a hand to help me up.

"Time’s up," he says.

THIRTY

JAIME

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