Page 137 of Just for the Plot

“Huh?” I ask, attempting to smile.

“Why are you being weird?”

“Wow.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Care to tell me why you’ve decided to be so rude?”

“What?” His brow creases.

Yeah, what?

I wave my hand dismissively at him. “That’s neither here nor there. What’s important is that it doesn’t happen again.”

“What doesn’t happen again? Sorry, not following.”

“You know, the thing.”

“What thing?”

I circle my hand around, as if that’s giving him the answer. “The…thing.”

“Bower.” He cutely scratches the top of his head. “What are you referring to?”

He’s going to make me say it, isn’t he? Of course he is. He’s an immature little punk, that’s what he is.

“You know…the diddling.”

“The diddling?”

It takes him a moment, but then a wicked smile passes his lips.

“Beautiful, I wasn’t even talking about that. But if you want to, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

“No, no.” I wave my hand through the air. “Not necessary to talk about it, honestly. I haven’t thought about it at all.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” His smile grows wider.

“It really is just one of those things that happened, and then poof,oops, out of the memory, not logged away or anything. Just poof and it’s gone.”

“Because of how bad it was or how insignificant it was to you?”

“What? No, that was phenomen-uh, wait, umm…yeahhh,” I drag out. “Actually, it was pretty insignificant, so if you could not tell your sister, that would be great.”

He purses his lips for a second before he closes the distance between us, pinning me against the wall.

And the devil be damned, my body heats up within seconds.

Freaking seconds.

My hands turn clammy.

The back of my neck warms.

My mouth goes dry.

And as he lowers his head, closer and closer, my entire insides start to thrum with want.

With need.

With so much yearning that I should not take from this man, but so much that I want to.