Page 16 of Petals and Plot Twists
“What? What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” he says a little too quickly. “Nothing. It’s just...” His arms drop from my waist, and he pulls out his phone. He pulls up his camera, then turns it around so I can see my reflection on his screen.
Annndthat’s when I see Sissy’s handiwork for the first time.
My hands lift to my cheeks. “Oh my gosh. For real?”
“It’s a good color on you,” Peter says through a laugh, and I reach out and push against his chest.
“Stop laughing at me. It’s not funny!”
“It reallyis,” he says. “What happened to you?”
“Sissy freaking Mayhew happened to me.”
“Who?”
“The librarian at the…you know what? Never mind.” I scrub at my cheeks. “She’s too hard to explain.”
“You’re just making it worse,” Peter says. “Here.” He reaches into the bag hooked over his shoulder and pulls out a wet wipe from a little resealable travel pouch.
I’m not even a little surprised Peter has wet wipes in his work bag. He’s always been fastidious about keeping his hands clean—just one of the many quirky things that make PeterPeter.
He lifts it to my face, knocking my hands out of the way so he can hold my chin and wipe off my cheeks. His touch is gentle, his focus entirely on me in a way that makes my skin prickle with awareness.
“Where are you going?” I ask. “Work?”
He nods. “Yeah. Got a meeting they won’t let me do over teleconference.”
“The horror,” I say in a mocking tone, and he grins.
“Right? It’s been so long since I’ve worn my suit, I had to dust off the shoulders.”
“You look nice,” I say as he shifts from my left cheek to my right one. I lift a hand and slide it down the front of his tie. “I like your tie. It’s been forever since I’ve seen you in a suit.”
“Want to know a secret?” he asks.
“Always.”
“It was kind of nice to have a reason to put one on.”
“I’m immediately calling your boss to tell him,” I say.
He smirks. “That might actually help,” he says. “The meeting is a performance review, and if it goes well, I could be offered a promotion.”
“Are you serious? That’s amazing! And that would mean you’ll have to wear a suit more?”
He nods. “I’ll spend a lot more time at the office if I get the job.”
He brushes the wipe over my cheeks one last time, his fingers lingering before he reaches forward and tucks a stray curl behind my ear. The gesture sends a delicious shiver down my spine, and I suck in a tiny gasp.
Peter’s gaze jumps to mine, and I know, instinctively, that he heard the gasp and knows it was his touch that pulled it out of me. “Done,” he says, his voice low. “Back to normal.” His hands fall from my face, and he takes a few steps to the side to toss the wipe into the trashcan near the door.
“Thanks,” I say, my throat suddenly dry.
“No problem.” He glances at his watch and frowns. “I really have to go. Will I see you later?” he asks, his tone hopeful.
More hopeful than usual?
