Page 38 of Hang the Moon
Dizzy and sweating beneath the stage lights, Brendon opened his mouth and then—he was pretty sure he’d blacked out, because everyone in the bar was on their feet and they were—clapping? For him? On what planet?
He searched out Annie’s face in the crowd. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, her shoulders shaking with laughter. She shoved her fingers in her mouth and wolf-whistled across the bar.
Chapter Seven
Brendon leaned against the wall as Annie fished around in the depths of her purse, fingers catching on a gum wrapper, a zipper, something fuzzy, a tube of her favorite bright pink lipstick she’d thought she’d lost last month, andaha! Darcy’s key. She turned and smiled. His blush seemed permanent at this point, and there was something utterly charming about how he could go from opinionated and bold to bashful in the blink of an eye.
He ducked his chin and gripped the back of his neck, laughing softly beneath his breath. “Tonight was... not at all what I had planned.”
She’d given up trying not to laugh early in the evening. Her stomach ached and her cheeks were sore from smiling more in one night than she had in weeks. “You mean it wasn’t your plan all along to dedicate a nineties rap song to me?”
“It was supposed to be a John Denver song,” he said for the umpteenth time before burying his face in his hands.
Poor Brendon. She reached up, setting a hand on his shoulder.“It was definitely a first for me. No one’s ever serenaded me before.”
He cracked open his eyes, staring at her dubiously. “No one’s ever serenaded you so poorly, you mean.”
She shook her head. No one had ever dedicated a song to her or written her a poem—hell, no one had even recited one.
His teeth scraped against his bottom lip, drawing her eye to his mouth.
“I think you’ve been dating the wrong people.” His tone was breezy, but his steady gaze screamed sincerity.
Her heartbeat faltered, then tripped over itself in its haste to climb into her throat.
Maybe it was true and he was right. Maybe she had been dating the wrong people, but that didn’t mean she was interested in putting herself out there over and over again, praying to stumble across the right person.
And despite the fact Brendon was attractive and made her laugh and her pulse race, this wasn’t a date. Even if she completely lost her mind and decided to throw caution to the wind, be reckless, risk her heart, there simply wasn’t enough time.
It was pointless, hopeless. Asking for trouble.
She squared her shoulders. “I had fun tonight.”
He bobbed his head, his smile adorably crooked. “So did I.”
Her chest twinged at how unexpectedly difficult this was. There was a fuzzy disconnect between her brain and her body, between what was smart and what felt right. She needed to step back, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it, to put the necessary distance between them and clear her head.
Brendon stepped forward, but not so close she felt boxed in.Just close enough that she could smell the butterscotch candy she’d offered him after dinner each time he exhaled, the fresh laundry detergent scent clinging to his clothes. Just close enough that she wanted him closer. “Tell me you don’t feelsomethinghere.” The crests of his cheeks turned an endearing shade of pink. “Tell me you don’t feel—feelsparks.”
His tongue darted out, wetting his lips before his upper teeth sank into his bottom lip, and he watched her with raised brows.
“I—” Her voice cracked. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’tlie. Not when he was looking at her like he could see inside her head. Like he already knew. “If I do?”
She pressed her lips together, a hot flush creeping up her neck and around her jaw when he reached out, sliding his hand through the strands of her hair. His fingers felt slightly cool as he tucked her hair back, her skin undoubtedly red, her blush crawling up her temples and spreading across her cheeks.
Cradling her head in his hand, Brendon swept his thumb out, tracing the curve of her cheek, the skin beneath her eye. His other hand trembled when he rested his hand on the curve of her waist.
Her breath quickened, her chest rising and falling, unable to so much as blink. What the fuck was happening and why,whywasn’t she stopping it?
He leaned down and closed the distance between their faces until the tip of his nose brushed hers, barely touching, even then, giving her an out.
An out she should’ve taken.
An out she didn’t want to take.
She held so still she practically vibrated as Brendon’s lipsparted and he angled his head, sliding his nose against hers once, twice, drawing it out, pure torture. Her pulse pounded harder, so hard he could probably feel it against the side of his hand, her chest rising and falling against his as she arched into him further.
Brendon’s mouth came crashing down against hers.
