Page 163 of With a Cherry On Top

That’s it?“So . . . you’re okay with me talking to her about us? And about . . . you?”

“Areyouready for what will happen once you do?”

“Yes, Charlotte. I told you, I’ll face whatever consequences?—”

“You know what’s worse than falling short on your friend’s expectations?” I shake my head, and she steps closer. “Her falling short on yours.” She takes my hand in hers. “Are you sure you’re ready for that possibility?”

I’d be ready to bet my left ball on this. Amelie does not know. “I’m sure.”

After a long moment, she sets her eyes on me. “Okay. I’m in.”

I stare at her, searching for any trace of hesitation, any sign that she’s saying what she thinks I want to hear instead of what she truly feels. But there’s none. Just Charlotte, standing in front of me, her green eyes determined, her lips curved in the smallest, most heartbreaking smile.

She’s in.

“Really?” A rush of something too big to name swells inside my chest. I know fear is still whispering in her ear that none of this is real. That the second I face Amelie and Logan, the second I feel my entire life shift beneath my feet, I’ll regret this. I’ll regret her.

I’d like to reassure her, but she’s heard too many lies to believe me. I’ll just have to prove it to her instead.

She giggles. “Yes, really. I might have been playing with your job, but I’m not playing with this,” she says as she taps her finger on my chest.

“Good to know.” Her lips mold against mine like they belong there, and tapping her chest back, I say, “I’m not playing with this either.”

Another kiss. This time, a little longer. Her tongue just barely skims my bottom lip, and part of the stress inside me melts like sugar over heat. “I think I like fighting with you.”

“Oh, yeah.” My lips ghost over hers. “We should fight all the time.”

Her hands move lower, skimming down my chest, my stomach, until she finds the hard length straining against my jeans.

“Hmm...” I pull back, my breath uneven. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What doyouthink I’m doing?” When she presses her palm against me, I nearly lose my grip on sanity.

I chuckle, though it’s more of a groan, and wrap my fingers around her wrist. “Something really unhygienic, and in my case, unprofessional.”

“I think that ship sailed a while back, sailor.”

Yes, but Amelie’s kitchen? This place is sacred.

Yet as Charlotte’s fingers twitch under my grip, memories of the last time she touched me slam into my mind, and suddenly, every reason I have for resisting seems insignificant in comparison.

“You’ll get me in trouble, Charlotte,” I warn. “And there isn’t a closet to stick me into here.”

“The only place I want to stick you into is myself.”

Oh, boy.Does she mean what I think? That she wants to break her third rule?Sleeptogether?

She traces the shape of my jaw with her finger, her gaze meeting mine. “Rules are for suckers anyway, right?”

Yeah, I’m fucked.

“Charlotte,” I plead, my hands gripping her hips as I attempt to step back, but she follows, pressing herself against me. “We can’t. Nothere.”

“Dinner is over and there’s no one besides us.”

“But there are cameras?—”

“That nobody’s going to check unless we set the restaurant on fire. Or would you rather go to my place and hide in the closet again? Oh! Shall we join your ex at yours?”

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