Page 80 of My Fixation

So instead, I wrap my arms around Conor’s neck and pull him down to me. His lips meet mine immediately. I pour everything I can’t say into the kiss. Every thank you. Every fear. Every impossible hope. For once, words seem inadequate.

The kiss deepens quickly. Neither of us is particularly interested in restraint. By the time we pull apart, we’re both breathing harder. I immediately chase his lips again. Not ready to leave this moment.

Then my stomach growls. Loudly. The sound cuts through the mood like a gunshot.

I freeze.

Conor freezes.

For exactly one second, then he starts laughing. Actually laughing. The deep sound vibrates through his chest.

“Traitor,” I mutter to my stomach.

Conor kisses my forehead.

“Breakfast first.”

I sigh dramatically. “You’re making terrible decisions this morning.”

“Objectively incorrect.” His hand slides down my side. “Your body requires calories.”

“There he is,” I groan.

“Who?”

“The man who somehow manages to turn everything into a scientific report.”

Conor looks entirely unapologetic. “It’s an important skill.”

Despite myself, I laugh. And as I do, I realize something. This. This right here. The teasing. The laughter. The ease of it. I’ve never had this before. Not once in my life.

“Come on, I’ll make you breakfast.”

Conor pulls back even further. Before I can think better of it, I tighten my grip around his neck.

“Or I can eat something before we get out of bed.”

The words leave my mouth, then my brain catches up.

Oh.

Oh, God.

Did I really just say that? I stare at him, waiting for my own embarrassment to swallow me whole. I’ve never been one to flirt. Hell, I’m not entirely convinced I know how.

Trent always teased that my idea of flirting was discussing power tools and asking if someone had eaten. Yet somehow, in less than a week, Conor has me saying things that would have made the old me crawl under a rock and die.

A grin slowly spreads across his face. The expression is dangerous. Predatory. Entirely too pleased with himself.

“Well.” His voice has dropped lower. “That’s certainly an option.”

Heat rushes into my face. “Forget I said anything.”

“Not possible.”

I groan and bury my face against his shoulder. The laughter that rumbles through his chest only makes it worse. Or maybe better. I’m honestly not sure anymore. What surprises me most isn’t that I said it. It’s that I wanted to. For once, I wasn’t weighing every word before I spoke. Wasn’t worried about saying the wrong thing. Wasn’t trying to be who someone expected me to be.

I was just…