Page 47 of Once Smitten, Twice Shy

Our foreheads meet, chests heaving. We stand in silence for a few breaths, heads pressed together.

Until gently, Will draws back. His eyes meet mine. His face is flushed, his pupils blown wide. He looks wildly turned on and mildly panicked. That makes two of us.

My smile is wobbly, but I manage it, even though I’m still flushed, still winded from what we did. I search his eyes, relieved that I don’t see regret but still worried. I don’t want to lose what we’ve just begun to build—this space we share that’s kind and safe and playful.

I swallow to wet my throat. I’m still not sure of my voice, but I force the words anyway. “You kiss all your friends like that, Will Orsino?”

He stares down at me and shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

I clasp his hand, stroking his palm softly. “Lucky me, then,” I whisper.

“Juliet,” he mutters, shaking his head again. “That was…”

I nod. “Yeah, it was.”

His eyes search mine. “We did what we said we wouldn’t.”

I nod again. “Yeah, we did.” I squeeze his hand, trying to reassure him. “But…maybe that’s what we needed. To, you know, get it out of our system. Now the air is cleared.”

The air is not cleared. The air is thick with unslaked lust and raw longing. Will’s body is still half-pressed to mine, and I feel him, thick in his jeans, his pulse pounding in his wrist that I hold. I feel how wet I am between my thighs, how my heart thunders in my chest. This did nothing to get it out of our system.

But that’s just going to have to be okay.

Because we’re not quitting on this. I feel his resolve and mine in our locked gaze, in some unspoken understanding as we pull apart.

Will rakes a hand through his hair, a bewildered expression on his face as he makes a quarter turn toward the door. “I should get on the road.” He turns back, searching my face. “Are you…are you okay?”

I nod, smiling. I know what we did was a logistical disaster. But God, did it feel good. “I’m okay,” I tell him, and I mean it. “Are you?”

He blinks rapidly. “I mean, I’m a little light-headed, but I’ll get there.”

A soft laugh jumps out of me. I thread my arm through his and walk him toward the hallway. “Can’t have you driving home light-headed. Come on, big guy. I’ll get you a juice box for the road.”

•Twelve•

Will

I’ve been taut as a wire for days now. Everyone at work and home is giving me a wide berth since no one knows what to do with me—I’m as far from my usual self as possible. I’ve been surly when I’m usually silent, cranky when I’m generally calm. I’m a fucking wreck.

From akiss. Kisses.

The best damn kisses of my life. Kisses that make me want so much more from a woman I can’t have.

I’m scrubbing viciously at my lunch plate, staring out my kitchen window at my veggie garden, when a knock at my door makes me glance back.

Hector perks up from his corner of my couch and starts to whine.

A sigh leaves me. He only does that for one person.

Miranda, my baby sister, walks in, strawberry-blond hair piled high on her head in a messy bun. There’s a charcoal pencil stuck in it, which is typical. Mimi’s always walking the land, sketching nature. She’s working on her portfolio to apply to art school.

“Hey, Dubs,” she says, plopping onto my couch.

I rinse my plate and set it on the drying rack, then turn off the water. “Hey, Mimi.”

My sister is quiet, scratching at Hector’s ears. I can hear his tailthumping on the couch from here. “Sooo,” she finally says, the word stretched out. “What’s up your butt?”

I sigh, my head hanging. “Would you believe me if I said nothing?”

---