Page 64 of The Dangers of Daydreaming

She was still holding her phone, but it was hanging down by her side.

I stood and walked to her. “Remember,” I said, grasping her upper arms and bending to look her in the eyes. “You stared down death just a moment ago—you can do this.”

Her eyes became determined slits and she nodded, a little quirk to her lips. “You’re right. After the dog, I can do anything.”

I let my smile free at the same time she did, and for too long—or not long enough—we just stood there, me holding her not quite the way I’d like to, and her smiling up at me as if she wouldn’t be upset if I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers.

My eyes dipped to her mouth, and my hands began to slide down to her arms.

She stopped me with her voice. “I have an overactive imagination, Finn Harrison. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.” But there was a hitch to her words. A tremor.

“Yeah?” I asked, eyes catching hers again. “And what is that?”

Her eyes narrowed, and red bloomed faintly in her cheeks. “You know.”

“Something about being with a beautiful woman makes me strangely forgetful. I’d be most appreciative if you could tell me what I was about to do.”

She took a step closer. Just a small one. It ratcheted my heart up as if a real dog had been about to attack her, though. With lips bit adorably together, her hands lifted to my chest. My bare chest. And her eyebrow quirked when her palm discovered how fast my heart was beating. Was hers going as quickly? Did I affect her the same way she was affecting me?

I stood frozen, afraid to scare her off.

“You,” she said, leaning in even more and bringing her lips tantalizingly close, “were about to cross a line.”

She started to pull away, but I palmed the small of her back. Not forcefully; she could have broken the contact if she wanted to.

But she didn’t.

“What are lines but arbitrary boundaries we didn’t need to put in place?” I murmured.

The wind picked up a few strands of her hair, and they blew between us, fluttering against her mouth and making me unbelievably jealous.

“Arbitrary boundaries?” she asked quietly. “Who’s the one with the big vocabulary now?”

“I thought it might tip the scales in my favor.”

“Underhanded tactics.”

I tucked back another errant strand of her hair, enjoying the silky feel against the back of my fingers. “Go on a date with me, Lucy. Just one date.”

She bit her lip. Then nodded.

“Yes?” I asked. I needed to hear it before I got my hopes up.

“Yes,” she said. Then her expression scrunched up teasingly. “You’re pretty impossible to say no to. I hate to think how much practice you’ve had.”

I heard the bit of worry laced between her flippant words. “Just you, Luce.”

Her mouth tipped into a lopsided smile. It was freaking adorable. My hand constricted on her shirt, but then I forced it to loosen and let go. I still wanted to kiss her, but I didn’t want to screw up the possibility of more.

More. What did that even mean? I knew I didn’t just want one date with Lucy, but I had never been one to plan ahead. The future was uncertain, and I didn’t like the disappointment that came when plans didn’t pan out. I didn’t like planning to go to Disneyland with my dad and ending up hanging with a social worker. I didn’t like it when I planned to move back in with him after he got his life figured out, and he’d made Gram tell me I was staying. Even the small times I made plans with a friend, and they bailed last second. It just didn’t usually go well to live in the future rather than the present.

And I knew that if this thing with Lucy didn’t work out, the pain would be a lot.

I didn’t even want to think about it right then. Or ever. One day at a time, that’s what I was going to do. One day… with the hope for more.

“Tonight?” I asked.

A breathy laugh escaped her that had me wanting to grab her back in my arms. But I didn’t—this time. “You don’t waste any time.”

---