Page 26 of Rush
"Which is?"
"Stay away from you."
"And how's that working out?"
"Not well."
I laugh and the sound breaks something between us. The tension shifts from uncomfortable to something else.
Something hotter.
Rush steps closer and my breath catches. He's in my space now, close enough to touch.
"You should go inside," he says.
"Probably."
"But you're not going to."
"Nope."
His hand comes up, and I think he's going to touch my face but instead he braces it against the wall beside my head, caging me in.
"This is a mistake," he says.
"You keep saying that."
"Because it's true."
"Then why are you still here?"
He doesn't answer, just stares at me with those dark eyes that see too much.
I reach up and touch his chest, just my fingertips against his leather cut, testing.
He goes very still.
"Your heart's racing," I say.
"I know."
"Mine too."
His other hand comes up to cup my jaw. The touch is gentle—too gentle for someone who looks this dangerous.
"Everly."
"Yeah?"
"If I kiss you, I'm not going to stop."
The words send heat straight through me. "Who said I want you to stop?"
He leans in and I can feel his breath on my lips, can smell leather and soap and something darker underneath.
We're a heartbeat away from kissing when he stops.
Just stops, frozen, with his mouth almost on mine.
