Page 6 of A Slice of Love

“A break? Why? We’re close to being finished.”

“Do youreallywant to finish thisright nowand then have nothing at all to do the rest of the weekend but think about how badly you want me to kiss you?”

She lets out a low squeak and almost topples off her stool in surprise.

Feeling like Edward Cullen when he races after Bella—damn my sister and all those girly movies she forced me to watch—I catch her just before she hits the ground.

“Jesus, Frank,” I say, hands gripped tightly around her biceps, righting her.

“Don’t you ‘Jesus’ me, Jonas Schwartz!” In a surprising move, she swats at me. “You can’t just say things like that!”

“Say that again.”

“Say what again? You can’t just—”

“Not that part,” I interrupt. “My name. Say my name again.”

“Jonas.”

“My full name,” I demand, my breaths coming just as sharp as hers, and she’s the one who almost fell off her stool. I’m sure I sound like a damn idiot right now, but I don’t care. My name falling from her lips is a dream come fucking true. “Please.”

Her chestnut eyes bore into me, her pupils growing twice their size.

“Jonas Schwartz.”

She whispers it, calmly.

Certainly.

And I want to fucking break.

I want to erase every single stupid invisible line we’ve drawn between us and haul her against me andfinallykiss her like I’ve been dying to since freshman year.

I want to so goddamn badly.

But I don’t.

With a sigh, I drag her closer, dropping my forehead against hers.

“Fuck, Frank. You can’t just say things like that.”

I hear her swallow thickly, can feel her shaking as she reaches up, placing her hands on my forearms.

Her fingers curl into me as she pulls herself closer.

She’s so close now I can feel her ragged breaths on my lips.

“Jonas.”

Now I’m the one swallowing thickly.

“Frank.”

Her fingers squeeze me once. Twice. She moves even closer.

Then I feel it—her lips against mine.

Her touch is light. Cautious. I can feel the spot where she always bites down and chews. It’s rough and torn, but I don’t care.

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