Page 7 of Ice Ice Maybe
He nodded thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving mine. “So, hypothetically speaking, if I wanted to kiss you right now, I should ... go for it?”
I was surprised he asked me that, but there was nothing I loved more than open communication between adults. I knew he wasn’t going to kiss me, but I also wouldn’t tell him not to, because that would be a rule. Nolan was searching for the boundaries, obviously, and I had read enough research about him in the report to know he was a respectable man.
I leaned in, matching his playful tone. “Exactly. Think of it as improv for our little charade. Actors kiss on television all the time. It’s not like they have romantic feelings. They’re working, that’s all. We are two consenting adults, and this is our current job. No scripts, no rules, just pure, spontaneous acting.”
“Interesting theory,” Nolan mused, his voice low and teasing. “Care to test it out?”
Before I could respond, he closed the distance between us and grabbed a few strands of my hair, twirling them in between his fingers, before tucking them behind my ear. His smile got wider as he eyed my mouth.
Wait, was he actually going to kiss me?
I didn’t believe it for a second.
Still, he wasn’t backing down.
“What are you up to?” I asked.
His lips curved into a mischievous smile. “Being spontaneous, of course.”
I swallowed hard, my heart suddenly racing. “Okay …”
The air crackled with tension as he inched even closer. The scent of his cologne—a tantalizing mix of citrus and spice—filled my senses. He licked his lips, and I unconsciously did the same.My mind raced with curiosity and a touch of nervousness, which was ridiculous, because there was no way he would be bold enough to kiss me after we’d just met. I had no idea what was going on, or if someone had spiked the horchata with tequila, but just when I thought he might close the distance and press his lips against mine, he gave a little smirk, settled back against the booth, and picked up his burrito.
I blinked, almost out of breath, both impressed and slightly frustrated by his little game. “Quite the tease, aren’t you?”
“You asked for fun and flirty—I’m delivering the goods.” Nolan smiled satisfactorily, then took a big bite of his burrito.
Two could play that game.
I reached over and plucked a jalapeño from his plate, biting into it and savoring the spicy kick with a moan. Next, I licked my lips deliberately, my gaze locked with his.
“Tell me, Nolan … how do you like your fun?” I asked as I ran my fingers down the length of his arm. “Mild, medium, or ... extra spicy?”
Speechless, his eyes widened, his burrito forgotten mid-chew.
I picked up my burrito, taking a casual bite as if I hadn’t just thrown down the gauntlet. “Your move, Romeo.”
Nolan’s lips curved into a slow, appreciative smile. “Game on, Juliet.”
Chapter Three
Nolan
Zena and I were playing a dangerous game, considering the absurd amount of chemistry that had been emanating between us from the moment I sat down next to her. The connection went far beyond mere physical appeal, a magnetic pull from deep within that defied any logical explanation. It was something I never could have expected, which meant it was of the utmost importance that I clarified the rules before things spiraled out of control.
I cleared my throat after Zena popped a second jalapeño in her mouth. “Can we go back to the rules for a moment?”
She waved a finger at me as she chewed. “There are none, remember?”
“Yes, but I’m sure there’s a caveat,” I said.
“What kind of caveat?” she asked, then finished her horchata and set the cup on the table.
“In public, it’s hands on. In private, it’s hands off,” I said.
Zena studied me for a moment, squishing her eyebrows together. “What are you trying to say?”
“I mean, outside of the public eye, if we’re all alone in some type of situation, nothing will happen between us. No sleeping together. No kissing. Nothing.”
