Page 66 of The Checklist
“This is fantastic,” Mike said, leaning back ever so slightly so he could look Dylan in the eye. “Steve Hammond. I see him at events all the time. It would be great if we could get him to do something.”
“I think we should be able to meet with Steve.” Dylan smirked. Mike had picked the one name she could actually get a meeting with. Assuming he wasn’t busy firing a fresh wave of Technocore employees.
“Seriously, this is so great.” Mike bounced forward, grabbed two cookies, then leaned all the way into the couch’s soft leather back. Taking a bite of one, he extended the second cookie to Dylan. Tingles shot through her arm as their fingers brushed. Dylan paused, cookie still in hand, to look at him. Mike’s posture straightened, pulling at an invisiblestring somewhere deep in her stomach. She held her breath and Mike’s gaze, willing herself not to shrink from whatever was between them.
“So ...” Mike cleared his throat, still looking at her.
“Yeah, I’m just gonna do this.”
Taking a deep breath, Dylan leaned in. The kiss was sweet, almost shy. But there was something delicious in the reserve of it. Her lips just brushing his, as if testing their realness, ensuring he wouldn’t disappear from under her. His arm wrapped around her, softly at first, then pulling her closer to him as the kiss deepened. Sliding her free hand around the back of his neck, she let the clean, soft edges of his haircut tickle her fingers. She slipped her tongue across the bottom of his lip, testing the boundaries between them. Mike responded, moving boldly and pulling her in closer, so she could feel the hard muscles in his torso. He tasted like the sugary treats she had just eaten. Vaguely aware her own cookie was melting in her hand, Dylan couldn’t help it: she giggled.
“What are you laughing at?” Mike’s voice was on her lips as he leaned his forehead against hers, his breathing uneven.
“My cookie is melting.”
Mike laughed, and Dylan could almost feel his smile touch her own as he tilted his head to look at the hand that wasn’t wrapped around him. Chocolate had managed to drip all over her arm. Dylan sensed his reluctance as he released the hand at the small of her back, allowing her the space to roll back onto her calves. Carefully, she disentangled her arm from around his neck and slowly brought the softening mess of a cookie to her mouth.
“Want some?” Dylan mumbled through a mouthful of cookie, holding up her chocolate-covered hand.
“Maybe later.” Mike bit down on his bottom lip as she began to lick the chocolate off her thumb.
“Suit yourself. It’ll just take me longer to clean up before we can get back to business.” She shrugged.
Mike leaned over, close to her ear, and whispered, “Take your time,” then flicked his tongue across the corner of her mouth, adding, “You have melted chocolate all over your face,” before leaning back again.
Dylan instinctively followed him forward, still working on the chocolate attached to her ring finger. As she did, her knees dug farther into his thigh. Mike winced and shifted away from the pressure.
“That can’t be comfortable,” he said, tapping a hand on her knee.
Dylan worked at the chocolate on her finger a little longer than she needed to, trying to come up with a good reason to keep her feet hidden. Pursing her lips, she watched as Mike tilted his head expectantly.
Exhaling, she pulled her feet out from under her, stretching her legs across Mike’s lap. “I got a really bad pedicure. Like, embarrassingly bad.”
Dylan watched in horror as Mike looked down at her metallic-yellow toes. The terrifying smiley faces on her big toes grinned up at him.
“Wow. That is just ...” His body shook as he pressed his lips together. “It’s just so ... weird.”
“I know. Don’t laugh,” Dylan said, trying to retract her legs from his lap. “I’d have removed them if I’d known I was coming here.”
“I feel like your feet are watching me,” Mike said, placing a hand across her legs and looking away from her toes, laughing into his own shoulder. “How do you go to the bathroom?”
“Honestly, I try not to look. I can’t find the nail polish remover, and once my shoes are on I keep forgetting to buy more. You know my parents’ house.” Dylan chuckled. “My toes are too terrible; I have to put them away,” she said, trying to bring her legs back from across his lap.
“No, no, no. It’s fine,” Mike said, still laughing as he slowly moved his hand up her calf, past her knee, finally letting it come to rest featherlight on her thigh. “We’ll just have you sit in a different position or something.”
“Or we could do things that don’t involve sitting.”
Dylan said the words fast so she couldn’t talk herself out of her desire. Mike stopped laughing and grew quiet, squinting at her, the crow’s-feet at the corners of his eyes taking shape.
“Like, maybe we find the room in your house that has options for other ... activities.” She trailed off, not quite meeting his gaze. Mike continued to take her measure as she moved her hands in a circular motion, looking for a polite way to suggest sex.
“This escalated quickly,” Mike said, biting down on his lower lip. Dylan’s face snapped to attention, catching the questioning look on his face.
“We can de-escalate. I don’t want you to feel rushed or anything,” Dylan sputtered. Suddenly unsure of herself, she looked down at her hands and kicked herself for being spontaneous. She usually considered all the angles. Spontaneity just wasn’t her thing. She had made a whole life out of eliminating uncertainty, and it was a good life. Surprises were for people with less Delacroix in their name.
Risking a glance, she caught Mike’s pause, his lower lip working overtime, and felt her heart stutter. Who was she kidding? The boy next door wasn’t going to drop years of animosity for an uneasy truce with someone whose parents’ had toilet papered his house two years ago.
“Let’s forget about it. Best not to trust a Delacroix,” she half joked, fighting the deflated feeling that came from misplaced hope.
