Page 139 of The Rom-Commers

His voice quieted. “The point is, we should find you a blanket. And dry your hair.”

“I’m not cold anymore,” I said.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

Charlie dropped his gaze to my mouth. “Your lips are blue.”

I dropped my gaze to his. “So? Yours are, too.”

“I’m not the person who was just shivering too much to put on my own clothes.”

“Well, I’m not the person who’s super mad about nothing.”

At that, we stared each other down. What were we even fighting about?

I looked at his bluish lips again, and he looked at mine.

And then there was only one thing to do.

I grabbed a fistful of his sweatshirt right at the neck, and pulled him closer into a kiss.

For the record, he kissed me back.

With enthusiasm.

The second our mouths met, he was clutching me to him, and I was clutching back and we were devouring each other like hungry animals. Maybe it was all just physical. Maybe this kind of thing was bound to happen if you made any man peel off your wet dress and slide you limb by limb into a set of his own fleece-lined sweats.

But I didn’t care.

He didn’t like me like that—but I didn’t care.

I was leaving in two days—but I didn’t care.

His heart could only attack its own reflection—but I didn’t care.

This moment, right here—no matter where it came from, or what it meant, or what it would or wouldn’t lead to—was worth it.

He clutched me tight with his arms, and I ran my palms over his jaw and into his hair. There were so many questions whirling through my head that I couldn’t even pay attention. Was this kiss ruining all other kisses that had ever existed—orwould ever exist? Was there some way to crawl inside his body? How, exactly, could I make this go on forever?

I wasn’t cold anymore, that was for sure.

I took a step back toward the bed, not breaking the kiss, and Charlie followed.

Then I took another step, and he followed that one, too.

Then, when the backs of my calves touched the bed frame, I tightened my arms around his neck to hold on as I climbed up onto the bed—never breaking the kiss—and tried to pull him there after me.

But as soon as Charlie realized what I was doing, he pulled back and broke away—leaving me kneeling there alone.

He took a second to collect himself, breathing hard. Then he said, “Emma, we can’t.”

“Sure we can.”

“We already said we weren’t starting anything.”

“But we seem to keep doing it anyway.”

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