Page 49 of The Muse
I disagree. The warmth of his big, calloused hand engulfing mine feels quite pleasurable. His gaze drops a few inches, and he wets his lips, which is even more torturous. I glance down for a beat, my hand still holding his. You can see my nipples through my bra and tight shirt. He has that effect on me, and I don’t know if I should turn and fix the situation or pray he feels powerless and relinquishes a kiss.
When his eyes shift, meeting my gaze again, he quickly releases my hand and takes a step backward. “So”—he swallows—“are we good? You know, to start over?”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I overreacted last night. It was?—”
“Too much,” he says.
“No.” I cover my face for a few seconds and sigh. “I just had certainfeelingsfor you. So I rushed things. And what you told me felt like a reality check. I needed to learn more about you before taking the next step. Really, I scared myself more than you scared me. I just took it out on you, and I’m sorry.”
A tiny line forms between his eyebrows, and he offers a slow nod.
“So we take it slow,” I say, more to convince myself.
“Slow,” he echoes.
I’m dying. He must be bad for me because I’ve never felt this anxious and unhinged. “But …” I shrug. “It seems a little silly to start completely over. Maybe we can pick up where we left off and forget about that minor hiccup last night.”
“Where did we leave off?” Flynn asks, and I don’t know if he seriously doesn’t remember all the close moments or if he’s messing with me.
“Well, we held hands at the Rawlings’ house. So we can check that off the list.” I use my index finger to make a checkmark. “So I suppose next might be …” Clasping my hands behind me, I rock onto the balls of my feet and back down again as nervous energy threads through me.
“Next might be?”
I shrug.
“Sex?” he asks.
My face flushes faster than I can gasp my next breath.
Flynn smirks. “Joking. Listen, I’m perfectly content just being in the same room.”
“I’m perfectly content having sex.” I grin and let him decipher my level of sincerity.Idon’t even know if I’m serious.
Flynn returns a nervous laugh, casting his gaze over my head for a second. “June, if and when we have sex, I promisecontentwill not be a strong enough word for how you’ll feel.”
As if burning me to the ground with that statement isn’t enough, he takes a second gander at my nipples. I need thicker padding in my bra, new underwear, and a tall glass of water—maybe a cold plunge. My jaw slackens, but nothing except my labored breaths escapes.
“Cat got your tongue?” He throws my words back at me.
“Kiss. Me.” My restraint vanishes. Standards? What standards? Self-respect? That’s overrated.
“June, if I kiss you, it won’t stop there, and I think we both know it. And I’m working pretty hard at this manners thing.”
“Fine then. Say please, and when it’s over, say thank you.”
Poof!
There goes the last shred of my dignity.
The grin on Flynn’s face explodes. God, he has the sexiest smile.
“Actually, I should go. I don’t know if I am dismissed for the day,” he says, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder.
“Yeah, I have a lot on my agenda today, too. So …” A lie. I have the day off and no plans. I love lazy days. Organize a few drawers. Read for a while. Take a walk. Grab lunch. Even squeeze in a short nap.
“Your roommate seemed nice,” he says.
“Ally is the best.”
