The Kiss Quotient (The Kiss Quotient 1)

Philip released an amused huff of breath. “All right, then.”

The elevator dinged, and she strode through the lobby. Frustratingly, Philip followed her to her car.

“Are you going to that charity benefit tomorrow?” he asked.

“How do you know about it?”

“My mom and yours are on the planning committee. I know, small world, right? Anyway, I was wondering if you have a date. My mom is going to find me one if I don’t get one on my own.” He smiled and hunched his shoulders in a way that made him seem far more approachable than normal.

Their situations were so similar, Stella couldn’t help sympathizing. “Mine threatened the same thing.”

“Look, Stella, I know you’re seeing someone, but . . . Before, you said you hoped it was serious, kind of like you weren’t sure. Is he your boyfriend or not?”

She looked down at the blacktop in the parking lot. “It’s complicated.”

“What does that mean?”

“I need to go. I don’t want to be late.” She gripped the door handle to her car.

He lowered a hand toward hers but stopped before making contact. Did he sense she needed her space? Maybe he really did understand her.

“Does it mean you’re just having sex? Because you’re better than that. I hope you know that. All that stuff I told you before about needing practice—it was crap. You intimidate the hell out of me, and I was trying to make myself seem more worldly. It’s stupid. All that matters is connecting with the right person. I think you can be that person for me, Stella. I’ve liked you for a long time.”

“Why are you telling me this now? We’ve worked together for years.” She could hardly believe her ears. He’d liked her all this time? Her?

“Because I have issues, and my tongue ties up when I’m with you and all that comes out is asshole garbage. I was waiting for you to ask me out because I’m insecure, but I’m asking you now. The idea that you’re seeing some guy who doesn’t appreciate you makes me crazy. You’re a ten for me, Stella.”

He thought she was a ten? Someone thought she was a ten. Her chest caved in, and her eyes stung. “I’m not a ten. I have . . . issues, too.”

“I know. Your mom told my mom. She told me. I have a whole slew of problems that change names every time I switch therapists. We’re perfect for each other. You’re still a ten for me.”

But he wasn’t her perfect ten. He might have been, though, if things had been different. There was a time when she would have been interested in exploring whether there was a nice guy inside him somewhere. She couldn’t fault him for sounding condescending when she often came across the same way. Besides, she wanted him to be good underneath it all. The idea gave her hope for herself.

“I’m sorry, Philip. I already asked him to go to the benefit with me. I can’t uninvite him. More than that, I don’t want to. I’m obsessed with him.”

A stubborn look crossed Philip’s face. “Obsessions pass.”

“Not for me, they don’t.”

“I assure you he’s just a phase. You’re not in love,” he said with certainty.

Her lips parted. Love? Was that what this feeling was?

Was she in love with Michael?

“How can you be so sure it’s not love?” she asked.

“I know because I’m the one you’re going to fall in love with. Me,” he insisted.

“Philip, don’t do this, whatever this is.”

“You need to give us a try.”

With that, he stepped forward and bent toward her.

She tried to back away, but her car was right behind her, preventing escape. She turned her face to the side. He didn’t wear overpowering cologne, but his smell was wrong. She pushed her hands against his chest. The feel of him was wrong. He wasn’t Michael.

He touched his lips to hers. Dry skin on dry skin. A wet tongue slimed into her mouth, and her heart skittered. Her body went into lockdown. It was like her first three encounters all over again.