Page 46 of Click of Fate

He looks over at me. Not smirking. Not teasing. Just… looking.

“Yeah. You are.”

We make our way back to the front desk. He cleans the shoes and puts them back on the shelf. He pulls out two new water bottles and hands one to me.

“Not bad for a non-date,” I say, twisting the cap.

He walks a little closer. “Not bad at all.”

And suddenly, we’re standing too close again. His knuckles brush mine as he takes the bottle from my hand. His gaze dips to my lips, then back to my eyes, waiting for something I don’t say.

I should pull away. I don’t want to.

“You know,” he murmurs, voice lower now, “I still owe you a prize.”

“For what?”

“For winning.” His hand drifts to my hip, just a whisper of pressure.

My breath catches. “And what exactly does the prize involve?”

He grins, leaning in. “That depends. You still afraid of casual?”

“Terrified.”

“Good.”

He kisses me.

Slow and steady. Heat that builds instead of sparks all at once. My fingers find the hem of his shirt, and he doesn’t stop me when I tug. His lips move from my mouth to my jaw, then my neck, and everything about this moment screams bad idea.

But I’ve never been very good at listening to warnings.

“Gym’s closed,” he whispers against my throat.

“Mm. What a shame.”

“I mean…we don't have to end this non-date yet.”

I blink. “You’re not talking about trying to have sex on a rock wall, are you?”

He grins wickedly. “I'm all for adventure, but I don't tend to live dangerously. I find it interesting that's where your mind went, though."

My mouth opens to protest. Then closes. He's right. My mind went straight to the extreme.

"I was talking about my office. There's a couch in there that has a lot of non-date potential.”

“I hate how charming you are,” I mutter.

He grabs my hand. “You love it.”

I narrow my eyes, lips twitching. “How many other girls have explored that potential with you?”

He stops walking, turns to face me fully, hand still laced with mine. “I know saying you’re the only one is exactly the kind of thing that’ll make you bolt.

I raise a brow. “Then maybe don’t say it.”

He leans in, voice low and rough. “Too bad. It’s the truth.”

---