Page 36 of Blame it on the Kiss
Super happy for his company, she swung the door wide as he approached. His arm brushed hers when he stepped inside and the contact, combined with how good he smelled, had her a little weak in the knees.
“Table? Couch?” He asked, looking like he belonged in her house.
“Couch. I was about to watch a movie.” She hurried into the kitchen to grab forks, napkins and another bottle of water.
“Is Cooper here?”
“No. He’s in LA to… ” Was Bryce really here hoping to talk to her brother?
“To meet with another agent?”
“Yes.” She leaned against the kitchen counter for a moment to stop the sudden shake in her legs.
“You okay?” Bryce asked.
She turned to find him right beside her. He picked the napkins and forks up off the counter. “Do you honestly think he’s ready to go pro?”
“I do.”
“What if I don’t?”
Bryce didn’t just look at her, he seemed to look inside her with genuine regard. “I get that you’re worried about him, but that isn’t a good reason to keep him from following his dreams.”
“You don’t know—”
“I know more than you think.” He twisted around and walked back to the couch, leaving her to dwell on what he meant.
He sat in the middle of her sofa, leaving just enough room for her on either side. Her stomach fluttered at the idea that even though they might not agree on Cooper, he wanted to be close to her. When she sat and her bare knee touched his covered one, the quivers intensified. And, oh crap. She looked down at herself. She’d forgotten she only had on her Victoria’s Secret sleep shirt.
She haphazardly dropped the bottles of water onto the ottoman. “I’m going to put on some sweats.”
Bryce took hold of her arm. “You don’t need to change on my account.”
What about on her account? She needed more of a barrier between her nakedness and his nearness because she definitely wasn’t thinking about food or Tiffany’s. She was thinking about straddling his lap and licking his neck.
And she didn’t think she’d imagined the predatory gleam in his eyes. He might be as conflicted as her about what they were doing, but the attraction couldn’t be refuted.
If he wasn’t going to let her bareness bother him, though, then she wouldn’t let it bother her either. “Okay,” she relented.
“What movie are we watching?” He opened the Styrofoam lid on his take-out.
She tucked one leg under her bottom and got busy with her own food. “Breakfast at Tiffany’s. It’s one of my favorites.”
He made a face, no doubt wishing he’d scored an action film instead, but lifted the remote and pressed play. She stifled a giggle. And swallowed a shiver when he gave her a sidelong glance that tracked from her face down to her legs before he took a bite of his dinner.
Somehow halfway through the movie, Honor found herself nestled next to him. His arm was wrapped around her, her head and hand were on his chest, and rather than hear the words coming from the characters on the TV, she heard the beating of his heart. Felt eachlub-dublike a song she wanted to play on repeat over and over and over again. She thought about the quote she remembered best from the movie…
“You know what’s wrong with you, Miss Whoever-You-Are? You’re chicken. You’ve got no guts. You’re afraid to stick out your chin and say, ‘Okay, life’s a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that’s the only chance anybody’s got for real happiness.’”
Honor had never thought herself a chicken, only matter-of-fact. She couldn’t change her feathers.
But was it true? If she never took another chance on love, would she ever be truly happy? Part of her wanted what Sophie and Zane had.
The other part made it her mission to fly free.
With a gentle touch, Bryce tickled the hand she had on his chest with the tips of his fingers. Lazy strokes across her knuckles, her skin. “I feel you thinking,” he whispered. “You okay?”
No she was not okay. She was in trouble. Big, big trouble. Not only did he always seem in tune to her, he made her think about things she’d written off. This crazy reaction to him was different from anything she’s experienced before.
