Page 62 of The Faking Game

“It’s more that they sometimes justlunge.I never understand why they do that.”

“They lunge. What do you mean?”

“It’s like they think this is their moment, and if I meet their gaze for a second too long or smile too nicely and there’s even ahintof intimacy in the air, they just pounce.” She shakes her head, a flush creeping up her cheeks.

“Sounds like you’ve kissed the wrong men,” I say.

“Maybe, yeah. Probably. It’s like I always end up two steps behind the pace they’re setting.” Nora looks back at me, and there’s a question in those eyes. A question I’m not sure she’s brave enough to ask.

So I ask it instead. “If you want to practice kissing, trouble, practice it with me.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

The question would make me laugh if it wasn’t asked in such an earnest way. If the blood in my veins didn’t immediately rush south, if my hands didn’t tighten into fists at my sides. I’m a bastard for taking any pleasure in this.

“No. And from what you told me, I’m guessing you’vebeenkissed. You haven’t kissed someone. Is that true?”

She sways closer, just an inch. Nods once.

“Then this is all you.” I tilt her head up. “You decide, Nora. You decide when, how long, in what way. You don’t think about me. Okay?”

Because I’m going to enjoy this regardless of what she does.

Because I’m going to hell, but I need to make sure that this is about her.

“I can… kiss you?” she asks. Her voice vibrates, half excitement and half nerves. But her deep green eyes don’t stray from mine.

“Yes.” It’s all I can do not to addplease.

CHAPTER18

NORA

“Is it okay if you just… stand there?” I ask. It’s hard to hear over the pounding in my ears.

West’s lips curve. “Yes.”

“Like, stand perfectly still.”

“I won’t move,” he says. “My hands will stay in my pockets. How’s that?”

“Good.” I can’t seem to take a full breath. He’sright there,and I have wondered, have considered, what kissing him would be like. But it’s always been hypothetical. Theoretical.

I’ve never been in charge before. Never been allowed to set the pace.

“Relax,” West says.

“I’m trying!”

His lips twitch again, but he stays true to his word. He just stands there, his chest rising and falling with even breaths. He smells good up close. Like that cologne and something fresh, ocean and spring and safety.

I put my hands on his shoulders and have to stand on my tiptoes to reach him. He doesn’t bend his head much. Just a slight tilt forward to make it easier for me, but he doesn’t close the distance.

He’s letting me do this on my terms.

I’ve never hovered this long before, had this much time before the kiss happens. My eyes close, and I can feel the faint heat of his breathing.

I brush my lips against his.

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