Page 80 of The Matchmaker's Choice: A Lesbian Romance

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problem is, I am comfortable with it. I want to pull her back

and taste her sweet lips. I want to keep going, to inhale the

fragrance of her skin, to memorize the curves of her body, to

discover and map out what makes us feel good together. As

partners.

Part of me wants to explode off the couch and run for

the door. The part that’s scared. The part that was shattered

before. The part that I glued badly back together, where all the

cracks are still showing. I know that I have to have more

courage than this. I can’t let what happened ruin my entire life

or dictate all my decisions. What kind of person would I be

then?

The parts of me that want Steph, that feel the

connection, that feel the chemistry, tell me that my fears are

irrational. They make me want to be strong. They make me

want to have courage. They make me want to stay.

“Slow,” I say, probably more for me than Steph, but

she responds instantly.

“Yes. Slow. I’m sorry if I kissed you and that upset

you, I—”

“It didn’t upset me. I liked it. Really. It was amazing.

You’re incredible. I’ve never…” Saying the words seems too

personal. Too intimate. Too scary, because once I’ve said

them, that I’ve never had a connection like this with anyone, it

makes it very real. I want it to be real, but I also know that I

shouldn’t just fall blindly into it. I’m no longer one of those

people who can just dive straight into icy waters. I need to

ease myself in, one toe and appendage at a time.

Steph takes my hand. Her smooth fingertips run over

the back and down my fingers before she threads them

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