Page 26 of Knot Really Engaged
Too soon, I force myself to pull back, my chest heaving as I struggle to catch my breath. Audrey’s pupils are blown wide, her lips swollen from my kisses. Her cheeks are flushed, a rosy hue that only adds to her allure. Tenderly brushing back a straylock of hair from her face, I rasp, “I think I know the basics of kissing, sweetheart.” My voice is rough with desire, betraying the depth of my longing.
“You— You definitely do.” Audrey’s breath hitches as she stares up at me, her eyes dark and filled with something I can’t quite decipher.
I can feel the heat radiating off her body, matching my own. We are both sitting still, in silence for a few moments, both of us trying to catch our breath.
I know I should say something more, try to diffuse the tension that’s still crackling between us like electricity. But part of me doesn’t want to. Part of me wants to just give in to this wild, reckless desire that’s been building between us from the moment I saw her at the airport.
But I can’t do that. I won’t let myself give into temptation and risk ruining . . . What will get ruined if I act on this attraction?
Honestly, I’m not sure. It’s not like we see each other often. But then there’s her brother who is not only one of my best friends but also a business partner. If anything goes wrong here it’ll be a fucking disaster.
With a heavy sigh, I reluctantly move away from Audrey and run a hand through my hair. “I think we’ve covered everything that needs to be covered. We should probably watch a movie orsomething,” I say, forcing my voice to sound casual and unaffected.
She nods slowly, her lips still slightly parted as she struggles to regain control of herself. “Right,” she mumbles, avoiding my gaze.
I hate seeing her like this—unsure, vulnerable—because of me. Guilt claws at my chest and I have to remind myself again why not touching her is for the best.
But as I pick up the remote and turn on the TV, a nagging voice in the back of my mind wonders if it really is for the best. Maybe giving into temptation wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all . . .
Shaking off those thoughts, I focus on the television. Audrey does the same and soon enough we’re both lost in thought while searching for a good movie, while pretending the kiss didn’t happen.
But every once in a while, when she glances up at me with those soulful hazel eyes, it’s as if the air between us ignites, and it takes everything in me not to be consumed by the flames.
Chapter Thirteen
Audrey
After last night’s kiss,Liam and I decided to watch a movie—Die Hard—instead of discussing our arrangement. Though, while watching Bruce Willis’ second best movie (the first being The Fifth Element), we got to know a little more about each other.
And by knowing each other, Imean the adult version of us. Even though I was trying to concentrate all my attention on the barefoot man trying to save his wife, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Liam. My mind still reeling from the intensity of our kiss.
We both agree Die Hard is its own genre and might be the best romantic comedy for the holidays. Okay, he said it’s the best Christmas-action movie, and we conclude that it’s the best Christmas-action-romantic-comedy movie. There’s romance, comedy, and action—during Christmas. At least we can compromise and also have a few things in common, and that’s important, right?
See . . . No drama unlike Cheating Ben. Who I barely knew because he only sold me the online version of himself, the one he uses to pick up women.
But back to Liam. If anyone asks me what his favorite movie is, the answer is simple: Die Hard. Mine . . . there are too many to choose from, and it’s more about my mood. Then, there’s what he eats for breakfast: coffee, black, with a bowl of fruit and granola. If not, a green smoothie—loaded with protein.
Today, he had to make an exception since the hotel couldn’t accommodate his request. Not sure what he tried to order though. I’m pretty sure that they have fruit and granola as a staple, but for somereason he didn’t even try to figure out how to get his regular breakfast.
Instead, he ate the same as me: poached eggs and fruit with a side of bacon—all the bacon.
Afterward, we headed to rent a car for the remainder of the week. In case either one of us needs to run away from our family—that’ll probably be me. The family chat is still going off with texts. Mom has been messaging me directly too.
I wish she would stop blasting my phone with questions like: why didn’t you post the proposal on social media? He could’ve waited until the weekend to propose, don’t you think? Where are you hiding? And Mom is wondering if she needs to contact our pastor so he can marry you this weekend.
I would love to text something like, “No, thank you, Mom, this is a fake engagement. We’re pretending to tie the knot for the sake of Grandma Cohen.” However, I can’t because this is not only a pretense for Liam’s grandmother’s sake but also for my parents. So they think I’m in a happy relationship, like I’ve been telling them for the past year.
She’s been rewording some of the questions to see if maybe that’s what will convince me to respond to her. Plus she keeps adding more, like “Would you want to wear my wedding dress?”
Umm, nope.I won’t because I’m not getting married to Liam Cohen, Mom.
He’s Liam and I’m me and I shouldn’t want him. At all. Not even when he kisses like, like . . . a god? The memory of his mouth on mine sends a shiver down my spine, and I can’t help but close my eyes, savoring the sensation.
The way his calloused fingers had cradled my face so tenderly, the scorching heat of his solid body pressed against me—it had felt . . . right. Natural. Like we were two pieces clicking perfectly into place. I bite my lip, trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach.
But I have to stop thinking about that or of the moment when reality will come crashing down. If I fall for his charm, I’ll be destroyed. Look at what happened with Ben. The asshole used me for a year and though I’m so angry at him, I’ve yet to understand why my heart isn’t broken, just my pride.
Because you were not in love, a voice whispers from somewhere in my head.
