Page 83 of The Pocket Pair

“Good.” He pauses. “Because if I kiss you, it won’t go down like this. It won’t be quick. It won’t be sweet. And it won’t be with an audience. You got that?”

Oh, I GOT THAT.

A kiss between us won’t be quick or sweet.

He doesn’t want anyone watching.

I am all about that.

Except … I don’t want to wait. I’m not picky, and I don’t care who’s watching.

I don’t want to take a chance that Chevy might change his mind and backtrack on all of this later. He’s planted a seed in my head, and it must be one of Jack’s Beanstalk seeds because it’s sprouted a vine that has spiraled impossibly far up in the sky.

Chevy shifts, and just when I think he’s changed his mind and he’s going to kiss me, he tilts his head and kisses the tip of my nose.

You’d think a tiny kiss on the nose would be cute. Sweet. Playful and not really sensual. But no.

Though it’s quick, Chevy’s lips are soft and gentle. The quick nip of his teeth speaks to his promise for another kind of kiss. It speaks to more. To him wanting more. Not just in my hopes and dreams and imagination, but in REALITY.

And it’s this tease of a kiss that’s the swift kick in my behind, pushing me into action.

I grab his coat in both of my greedy hands and hold him still. I capture his gaze. “No.”

“No—what?”

“I don’t agree.”

He blinks, lips parting in surprise, looking almost a little hurt. “With which part?”

“There’s only one word I take issue with in what you just said.” I swallow, one half of me really hoping I’m not about to make a giant mistake while the other half doesn’t care.

“What word is that, Tiny?”

“If,” I tell him, my voice sounding more sure and strong than I feel. “Because there’s no if we kiss—only when. And frankly, I’m tired of waiting for the when.”

With a firm tug on his coat collar, I pull Chevy to me until his lips crash into mine.

CHAPTER 24

Chevy

I’ve spent a lot of time lately doing mental gymnastics trying to work out how things could possibly work between Val and me. Could I? Should I? Do I deserve her? Could I escape any legacy my father might have passed down in my very DNA? Turns out, those hours were wasted time.

All I needed to allay my fears and answer those questions was a kiss.

And suddenly, there’s no room for thinking.

No need to work out the future or deal with my past. I have no interest in trying to second- (or third- or fourth-) guess this.

Because the moment Val’s lips meet mine, my world doesn’t tilt on its axis; it implodes.

Her mouth, warm and soft and so, so sweet, moves with no hesitation, no restraint. Val’s kiss is sure and without doubts. Her confidence draws out my own.

We should have always been doing this. Always been more than friends.

Okay—once she was old enough that the few years between us weren’t weird. But after that, yes.

What have I been wasting years on?

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