“Turns out I wasn’t as hungry as I’d thought.”
“Guess it was lucky that I didn’t order a burger for myself.”
When I was only able to choke down a few bites, Brayden easily polished off the rest.
“Yes,” I mumble, not meaning a single word, “lucky.”
“I’ll get you home and then you can hit the sheets.”
I expel the pent-up air from my lungs in relief. The quicker we part ways, the better off I’ll be. I can untangle all these unsettling thoughts and get my head on straight.
Much like earlier this evening, Brayden hits the locks and holds open the passenger side door. Instead of immediately shuttering me inside, he leans down and grabs the seatbelt before stretching it across my torso and fastening it into place. My body stiffens at the innocuous contact. The clicking sound is like a gunshot in the silence of the truck as his gaze stays fastened on mine.
The moment stretches and lengthens between us, ratcheting up the thick tension that permeates the atmosphere. Everything in me stills. Just when I wonder if it’s possible to pass out from lack of oxygen, he straightens to his full height and seals me inside. My heart hammers almost painfully against my chest as my muscles loosen and I collapse against the seat.
I don’t understand what’s going on here, and I’m afraid to push for too many answers. I’m scared of what I might uncover. What if we’re only able to move forward instead of back to the way things have always been between us?
The drive to my apartment is made in oppressive silence. Brayden doesn’t bother to turn on the radio in an attempt to break the growing pressure that fills the cabin. My fingers twist nervously in my lap. I need to get away from him and the stifling intensity that threatens to suffocate the life out of both of us.
By the time he pulls into the parking lot of my apartment, my fingers are curled around the door handle and I’m counting down the seconds until I can escape. A million butterflies have winged their way to life inside the confines of my belly. I don’t remember the last time a guy provoked this kind of reaction from me.
It certainly wasn’t Ethan.
Or Alex.
Or Daniel.
None of this makes sense. I don’t even like Brayden.
What?
It’s true, I don’t!
So why is my body reacting to him like this?
As soon as he parks, I get ready to bolt. Before I’m able to do that, his hand slides into my hair, holding me in place. During the game, I’d had it up in a ponytail to keep it out of my face. When I showered afterward, I’d washed it and left it down to airdry naturally. The thick mass flows around my shoulders. His fingers slide through the golden strands until my temple rests against his wide palm.
“Don’t go just yet.”
“Oh, right. Your sweatshirt.” My fingers flutter to the hem, ready to tear it from my body.
“No.” The edges of his lips quirk. “I don’t want the sweatshirt back.”
“What then?” Barely am I able to force out the question.
Instead of responding, he closes the distance between us until his lips can ghost over mine. As soon as he makes contact, his hand slides from the side of my head to the back of my skull before tugging me closer.
There is nothing rushed about the way his mouth strokes over mine. It’s lazy. As if we have all the time in the world to explore one another. His mouth caresses my upper lip before mimicking the movement on the lower one. When his tongue brushes against the seam of my lips, I open. It’s not a conscious decision on my part. More like instinct. A deep-seated need to taste more of him.
And then he’s delving in. Our tongues mingle until I lose myself in the taste and feel of him. Even though I realize this will only muddle the lines between us further, I can’t stop myself from meeting every thrust of his velvety softness with a parry of my own. Worse than that, putting an end to this caress is the last thing on my mind. The feel of his mouth is like heaven.
“You taste so damn good,” he murmurs against me before diving in for more.
An insistent voice inside my head continues to grow louder until it refuses to be ignored. My palms slide across the steely strength of his broad chest before pushing him away.
Brayden’s eyelids are lowered to half-mast and there’s a hungry look filling his dark gaze. It’s one that sends my belly crashing to the bottom of my toes. His tongue darts out to lick at his lips as if he’s intent on tasting me there.
“What are we doing?” It’s almost impossible to fight my way out of the thick haze that has descended.