Page 46 of The Overdue Kiss

I nod and make the mistake of meeting his eyes again. The warmth from my face travels through my body at his intense stare. He’s always observing—watching the world around him—yet somehow I’m interesting enough to warrant his beautiful gaze.

“Are you okay?” he whispers in concern and lifts a hand to the side of my neck, his thumb brushing under my jawline as he studies my face.

“Yes. Sometimes being around you is... a lot.”

When his eyes squeeze closed, I quickly cover his hand with mine.

“It’s a good thing, Des. I’m just processing all my feelings, good feelings.”

His eyes snap back open, brighter than before. “You are?”

I tremble when his thumb moves, tracing idle circles under my chin. A caress so innocent, so soft, that I’m not sure even he knows it’s happening. Suddenly, we’re closer, and the heat isn’t just me but the combination of the two of us.

“I thought I scared you away,” he admits.

“I’m still here.”

He smirks at that. “Good.”

“Did I scare you away?”

“Never.”

We stay like this for I’m not sure how long. Just gazing into each other’s eyes and memorizing each detail. His eyes dilate, leaving only a trim of silver visible. He doesn’t glance away, but neither do I.

Is this what it’s like to kiss with only your eyes?

When the front of his helmet bumps mine, the tension-filled bubble pops around us and we lean away. A sweet blush spreads from one of his cheeks to the other, and he quickly taps his visor shut. Static crackles through the comms before his uneven breaths pipe into my ears.

Did he . . . just try to kiss me?

“So much for me getting here early,” he mutters and clears his throat. “Hop on whenever you’re ready.”

Placing a hand on his shoulder, I climb up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist. He tugs fabric over my fingers, and I peer over his shoulder to see.

“You bought me gloves?”

“Reese let me borrow her pair until the ones I ordered come in. I’m now in her debt, which is a terrible place to be.” He laughs and starts the engine.

“I appreciate it.” My arms tighten around him in a thankful hug.

The ride to Denver is nothing but sunshine and blue skies. Full of nerves for some reason, I talk about the different members of my family, preparing him for all their, uh, unique personalities. Des is quiet, listening and focusing on the road as we weave down I-70. A few kids wave from the back seat as we pass, and I wave back, which sends them into hoots of laughter.

“Don’t let go,” Des says, holding my hand to his stomach. “We are going too fast, and I don’t want you to fall off.”

Smiling, I snuggle closer until we are flush together.

We pull down my parents’ jam-packed street, not a single parking spot in sight. Not that it matters to Des. He easily whips into a small space beside my dad’s landscaping truck in front of the large two-story house.

He kills the engine, and I regretfully let go of him. I slide off, already hating the fact we aren’t touching anymore.

“What time do you want me to come get you?” He crosses his arms as he waits, his muscles straining against the leather.

I spin back to him, the helmet tucked under my arm. “What? You’re not coming in?”

“I’m the ride, remember?”

“Des, I want you to come in with me.”

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