Page 22 of Paxton

I tilt my head, taking a sip of my drink. “Like when?”

He stands up a little straighter, his eyes flashing with something I can’t read. “Just…times,” he says.

“Tell me.” I laugh. “Maybe I can give you some insight. My guess is you were right, you just think you were wrong.”

Paxton takes a sip of his water before setting it back down on the bar. “Okay,” he says, visibly swallowing. “Clay’s party.”

Heat swarms my skin, but I do my best not to show it. “What about it?”

He smirks. “I couldn’t read you after we played that game.”

I narrow my gaze, totally feigning ignorance. “What part of the game, exactly?”

Paxton barks out a laugh and I feel it in my bones. I can’t stop my smile.

“You know damn well which part, Monroe,” he says, his tone wrapping around my name in a way I’m not used to, more…fiery.

“Oh!” I snap my fingers. “You’re talking about the part where you kissed me?”

He nods. “I wasn’t the only one doing the kissing.”

I stir the ice in my drink with the small straw, doing my best to not look him in the eye, scared he might see everything I’ve been hiding for so long. “You couldn’t read me after that?”

“No,” he says, his voice lowered between us.

I finally draw my gaze up to his, fire licking my veins at the tension tightening between us. The kiss plays on repeat in my mind, the way he’d held me, the way his mouth felt against mine, the way my heart races even now just thinking about it.

My eyes fall to his lips, adrenaline begging me to do it again.

“You want me to tell you?” I ask, my voice almost a whisper as I look up at him.

“More than anything,” he answers quickly, stepping closer to me, almost like he can’t help it.

I welcome the nearness, the closeness between us, allowing myself to feel every sensation as my body comes alive from just the simple act of him standing next to me.

“The first thing I thought was, holy shit, Paxton is kissing me.”

Paxton laughs. “And the second?”

“Nothing,” I say, swallowing hard.

His shoulders drop. “Nothing? Jesus, Monroe. If you want to tell me you think I’m a bad kisser?—”

“No,” I cut him off, shaking my head. “Icouldn’tthink,” I hurry to continue. “I could only…feel.” I suck in a sharp breath. I’ve always been honest with him before when he’s asked a direct question like this—the only thing I’ve ever hidden is my feelings—so I’m not going to stop now. “It wasn’t possible to form one coherent thought when you were kissing me like you were.”

Paxton blinks a couple times. “Oh,” he says, eyes scanning my face as if he’s searching for the moment I’ll laugh and sayjust kidding.

I don’t.

His eyes come back to mine, all the rich browns churning with what he’s not saying.

And I can’t find my voice anymore, not after admitting what his kiss had done to me.

He parts his lips?—

My phone buzzes in my pocket, jolting me. I glance at Paxton, wondering if he’ll tell me not to answer, but he nods and picks up his water, taking a drink.

I dig in my pocket, fishing out my phone in case it’s a client that needs to reschedule, but the person calling me definitely isn’t a client. It’s Liam.Again.

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