Page 43 of Pack Scratch Fever
It’s quiet in the restaurant parking lot, and we both stand idly next to my car, an old grey commuter car. His is parked next to mine, a sleek light blue eco-friendly car.
It seems soAvery.
“It’s late,” I manage to say. I look up at his wistful smile, drowning in his scent.
He nods, his eyes falling to my lips. “It is.”
I want to kiss him, I realize.
Kiss him.
This was a date, technically, and the butterflies remained in my stomach all through dinner.
I’m giddy like a teenager.
And I haven’t wanted to kiss anyone since…forever.
I wage a war in my head.
Avery continues to watch me with a soft smile on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks, his tone soft.
Patient.
His chamomile scent, so welcoming and calming, is what finally makes me bold.
I think about the words he’s spoken to me, the way he appreciates the work I do.
The fact that he truly sees me.
I stand on tiptoe and gently press my lips to his, anxiety surging in my chest as I do. His lips are soft, but he freezes, and I pull back quickly, mortified.
I misread the situation.
“I’m sorry,” I stammer, backing away from him. His eyes widen, and he huffs out a breath, surprised.
The kiss felt right, was better than any I’ve ever had, but that doesn’t mean it was that way for him, too.
Idiot. Stupid idiot.
He reaches for me. “Piper?—”
But I shake my head, chuckling shakily, shame rushing through me.
Once again, I’ve made the wrong decision, like every other choice in my life.
Stupid, stupid…
But Avery steps forward and cups my face, his fingers caressing my skin. “I didn’t expect that,” he whispers. “Don’t apologize to me.” His smile is brilliant, and he presses his forehead to mine. “Your mouth is so soft.”
Now it’s my turn to freeze. I close my eyes at his touch, tingles racing through my body as his thumb trails down my cheek. “May I kiss you again?” he asks, his minty breath washing over my lips. His sweetness overwhelms me, and my core throbs with need.
“When you ask likethat,” I chuckle weakly, “of course.”
His lips press against mine, still tentative, as if he’s scared I’ll run away. He takes his time, one hand leaving my face to cradle the back of my neck, and I exhale against his mouth.
Avery kisses me as if he has all the time in the world to savor my taste. By the time he pulls away, my breathing is ragged, and my core is soaked. His eyes are almost black, lust filling them.
I want him.
