Starting from Scratch (Starting from 2)

“Okay. First up…I don’t want a fuckin’ snack and second, it’s not a skating lesson. We’re skateboarding,” I said, glowering at him.

“I’ve heard it said both ways. Skating, skateboarding. I looked it up in Urban Dictionary too, so I’m pretty sure I’m right.”

“No. There’s something in your tone that makes it all wrong. Like you’re purposely trying to sabotage this.”

Charlie opened his mouth in a perfect O. “Gasp! I wouldn’t do that!”

“Cut the crap. You’re doing it now. You don’t want to learn, and you don’t want Oliver to either. It’s a control thing. But you can’t control what you don’t fuckin’ get. So take a seat and let me teach him without you freaking out or—why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. You’re doing something weird with your eyes, though. You look spaced out.”

“Mmm. I’m trying not to swoon. You look so fierce and you’re holding my hand, Ky. You should feel my heart. It’s beating out of my chest. Seriously.” He fluttered his lashes a few times and bit his bottom lip.

I chuckled softly and stepped closer. “Are you flirting with me, Char?”

“No, it’s the other way around. You’re flirting with me. Big macho displays really get my motor running. Medium-sized ones do too. I love it when…”

Okay, so I lost myself. I tuned out the sound of his voice and concentrated on him. The mischievous glint in his eyes, the proud set of his shoulders, and the way his mouth curled at the corner. He was doing it again. Owning the moment. Taking it over. Charlie looked for weakness in any form, then slyly made adjustments before moving in for the kill. No doubt he thought I’d back down fast and run away. I wasn’t going anywhere.

I fixated on his bottom lip and inched closer. He kept talking…something about dick size or muscles…I wasn’t sure, but I liked the cadence of his voice. The teasing lilt and easy humor. I let go of his wrist, brushing his fingers before setting my hand on his hip. He went perfectly still.

Before he could ask me what the fuck I was doing, I kissed him.

It was more of a press of lips than a grand gesture. And though it might not rank as the kind of kiss that would change the world, I immediately knew it would change mine.

Everything in me went on high alert. I’d never been so in tune with a moment. The flutter of his eyelashes, the brush of his nose, and the soft sweetness of his lips against mine. Fuck, it was amazing. Like mind-blowing amazing. He tasted like cherries and smelled like sunshine mixed with something exotic.

I couldn’t be sure over the roar of my heart attempting to beat its way out of my chest, but I thought he hummed in approval, so I angled my head slightly to deepen the connection and pulled him closer. If he was anyone else, I probably would have stuck my tongue between his lips and let my hands roam all over his body. I wanted to, but I didn’t want to scare either of us. So I stayed where I was until the need for oxygen became an issue.

Then I jumped back two feet and stared at him with my eyes bugged out. “Holy fuck.”

Charlie set his fingers on his bottom lip and blinked like he was coming out of a daze. “You kissed me,” he said softly.

“Uh…um. I’m…” I winced and rubbed my nose nervously, looking everywhere but at him.

“It’s okay. Don’t freak out. Just…” He circled his wrist expressively before adding, “Don’t do it again.”

“Yeah. Um, right. I’m gonna…” I hiked my thumb toward the backyard.

“Okay.”

I moved toward the glass windows, swallowing around the grapefruit lodged in my throat before turning to face him. “Hey, I’m in charge of the lessons out there. Don’t butt in. And don’t argue. That’s non-negotiable. Oh, and Char?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not sorry.”

Charlie

I stared after Ky with my mouth wide open while my mind whirled in twenty directions at once. Did he really just kiss me? Did he mean to do it, or had I tricked him somehow? I’d been told I had that effect on guys. According to one of my exes, I confused, flustered, or downright annoyed him until he either wanted to punch me or fuck me. Since Sam was one of those gym rat types with biceps bigger than his head, I preferred his dick to a fist in the gut. I think the same thing happened last week at a WeHo bar. I accidentally picked a fight with a very straight-looking man about a recent episode of The Bachelor in Paradise. One second, I was in the midst of a tequila-fueled debate and the next, I was backed into a corner with his tongue down my throat.