Page 328 of Wrong Pucking Player

“This is hard for you,” I quietly point out. “Isn’t it?”

He takes his time answering me, as though he wants to find the right words.

He takes a step forward, leaving me no choice but to look up as he peers down at me. I don’t know why it feels like he’s taller now. Maybe this switch makes it feel as though he’s taking the assertive role between us.

“Protecting you isn’t hard,” he admits first as if to emphasize he’s well capable of doing his job.

I force myself to remain still as he reaches up and grips my chin. Lifting it up just slightly, he looks at my lips before peering into my eyes.

“Pretending I have no other association with you when I just want to steal these lips and kiss you with everything in me is fucking hard, Kenzie.”

My heart is beating rapidly against my chest while I’m lost in the stormy intensity of his eyes give me a glimpse of what’s going through this man’s mind.

The immense hunger that’s desperate to have a single taste of me.

“You forgot to ask permission to touch me,” I remind him, even though the single touch is driving me fucking crazy.

How you can react so powerfully to someone you can’t remember, as though the chemistry between us was so magnetic that fighting against its pull is destroying us both.

“Sorry, Kenzie.”

“You like calling me Xandra, don’t you?”

“I do…” he admits.

“Why?”

“That was my way of calling you,” he whispers. “The name you knew only I used.”

“So, if something bad happened to me, you’d use Xandra wouldn’t you?” I acknowledge.

“Nothing bad will happen to you,” he corrects, which has me smirking a bit.

“Alright, alright,” I knock on invisible wood. “Nothing bad will happen to me, but you’d call me Xandra, not Kenzie.”

“Why is this important?” he questions. “We should get back to the dance hall so we can get this dance over with and you can go home with Oscar.”

I stop him before he can leave, my hand grabbing onto his.

His body grows rigid, while I won’t deny the shock of lust that pulses through me at the idea of him holding me, even for a few seconds.

“Wyatt.” Compared to the other ways I’ve said his name, this one resonates differently. There’s a seductive undertone to it, but it’s loving in nature, reeling him in entirely.

He can’t help but peer my way, the two of us staring intently at one another before I gently squeeze his hand.

“If I asked you to kiss me, would you?”

“I would.” He doesn’t even hesitate to answer. “But it wouldn’t be real, Kenzie.”

“Xandra,” I quietly correct him. “For tonight, you can call me Xandra if it makes you more comfortable.”

He bites his bottom lip, wanting to defend himself from what I’m doing but not vocally being able to.

I know what I’m doing could be deemed wrong, but I need to see if he really did love me. If the passion we shared is no different from what sizzles between Armani and me.

Even if it’s just for a moment.

“For one minute, I’m going to close my eyes, and in that minute, you can do whatever you wish,” I portray what I want from him. “You can walk away. You can stand right here. You can even kiss me. Whatever you choose is your choice that I allow, as long as you finish up by saying Xandra.”

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