Page 24 of Before the Summer He Found Her

Bringing her hands to the area around her heart, she lets out another gasp. “Terrible. You’re so awful. Really, is that the worst thing?”

My eyes narrow in jest. “What trouble did you get into, troublemaker? Let’s hear your wild stories.”

“You don’t want to hear my stories, Ezra.”

“Oh, I do.”

“No, you really don’t.”

There’s a more serious tone to her, and I stop, giving her my full focus. A distant look crosses her expression, as if she’s once again lost in thought. From the moment we relaxed back at the mall, and until now, we’ve kept our conversation light, jovial. Now, I’ve inadvertently caused her to tense up again.

“My childhood stories are dark,” she says quietly, a visceral shiver working through her body.

“So are mine.” The words tumble out of my mouth without thought or consideration.

We’re staring at one another, in the cold of the winter night, and her heat draws me closer. There’s something about her. Always been something about her.

Unable to fight the urge, my hand reaches for her arm.

And before I know what I’m doing, and before I question my judgement, it’s too late. Protectiveness takes over, and I’m leaning in to comfort her. Then,she’sleaning in. Our lips draw dangerously close together, flirting with the line we should not cross.

Our lips graze, and I melt, choking out a quick breath. A spark surges through me, through us both, from the simplest of touches. It’s hardly a kiss, and yet there’s an intensity there I’ve never experienced before.

She presses her lips into mine, and I sink into her touch, throwing my arms around her back and tugging her in tight. She grips the lapel of my jacket, using the leverage to pull me into her. We’re ravenous. Lips crushing against the other. Like two lovers separated and making up for lost time. Except, I hardly know Channah. Yet, something deep is blooming in my chest.

I’m dazed as our lips part. Between the cold night and my rattling nerves, my brain’s cloudy. I’m not thinking straight. Everything is swirling.

I shouldn’t be doing this for so many goddamn reasons.

Shouldn’t be. Yet I am.

Channah brushes her lips against mine and speaks something in a language I don’t understand. It almost sounds like she’s taught herself Vulcan.

“What did you say?” I murmur.

She eyes me as if I should know the reference. As if I’m in on the insider information. But I’m not—outside of a few words, I never taught myself aStar Treklanguage. And my brain’s too cloudy to try to comprehend what she’s said from context clues.

“I’m your boss,” I breathe against her lips, saying the one thing Iamcertain of, changing the subject since I realize she’s not going to answer my previous question.

“That you are,” she says, slowly taking my bottom lip in hers. The sensuality of it causes me to shut my eyes, and I forget what she is to me. Instead, I lose myself in this moment.

I pretend that I’m allowed to want this with her.

She rests her forehead against mine. “Ezra, I’m sure we’rebothcold.”

“What are you suggesting?” I dare.

“One night, that we keep between us.”

I stare into her eyes. My mouth moves to tell her no, that this wouldn’t be proper, that it would be the most awful idea.

Except those words refuse to leave my lips.

***

I’ve been in this bedroom before.

The thought incessantly crosses my mind on repeat as Channah rips the last article of clothing off my body. Together, we stand naked in front of her bed in a room that appears almost identical to Past Channah’s bedroom, save for a new nick knack here and there. I don’t dare glance at her bookshelf, the one with all theStar Treknovels, for fear she’ll see the recognition on my face.

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