Page 105 of Enemies Don't

I gasp. “That was back in January! How did she remember?”

“The woman’s brain is like a steel trap,” Collin says with reverence. “Anyway, I had her whip one up for you today.”

A thick ball of emotion clogs my throat, and I take another sip of my drink to wash it away. I don’t say anything about how I haven’t let myself have my favorite drink for almost a year because I couldn’t justify paying almost six dollars for a beverage when plain black coffee is a third of that cost. Collin isn’t pointing it out either, but I get the sense he knows. Or he understands somehow.

“I wanted to treat you,” he says quietly. “How’d I do?”

I gulp and offer him a small smile. It quivers, mostly because of his kindness but also with the emotion I feel in my chest for a man who notices me—who cares enough. “Good. Real good. Thank you.”

He smiles a full-blown smile, one that I can’t help but mirror.

“Okay. We should get started.” I face the room again.

Collin sets his coffee down on the small table that’s set up inside the door and moves so he’s standing directly behind me.

“If you say so.” His warm, strong hands settle on my shoulders. I’m at once relaxed and on high alert. It’s a beautiful catch-22 where Collin is concerned. In his presence, I am equal parts at ease and on the edge of my seat, waiting to see what will happen next. It’s fun living like this. It makes me feel like I’m up for adventure again. And that it’s okay to be, because I’ve got the security of a soft place to land when all is said and done.

In this analogy, Collin is my soft place to land, but let me be very clear that I’m not calling him soft—not in the literal sense, anyway. I could strike a match and light it against the man’s ab muscles.

He massages my shoulders. “Where do you want to start?”

I roll my head to the side, all thoughts of packing my stuff fleeing. “That feels good.”

“Good,” he breathes into my ear.

We stand there in silence for a second—him using his thumbs to work out the knots in my upper back, and me trying not to drool. I’m acutely aware of Collin in my personal space. At one point, he stops massaging my neck and, instead, catches all my hair in his hands and runs his fingers through it before settling it on either side of my shoulders. He lets his hands fall and brush against my upper arms. A tingle races down my spine, and I can’t help the small whimper that escapes my lips.

He breathes out a low chuckle behind me, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to my senses, and he’s very pleased with himself.

In a split second, I decide to act on my newfound, or newly regained, adventurous side. I can’t let him think he can turn me into a helpless puddle of Collin-induced mush, now can I? I turn in his arms and push him back into the closed door.

His eyes widen and turn that evergreen shade I’ve come to associate with desire.

I rise up on my tiptoes, holding my lips less than an inch away from his. With our chests pressed against each other, I can feel his heart hammering. His eyes are locked on mine, waiting on my next move.

“If you keep doing that, I’m not going to get anything done today. But I think you know that.” I lick my lips, and he swallows. “Don’t you?” I ask as I sneak a hand between our chests before dragging it up and over his shoulder and letting my fingers run through the rough cut of hair along the back of his neck.

His breath hitches, and he sways, his head bobbing nearer to mine. Our mouths are as close as they can be without touching, and I can feel the vibration from his bottom lip when he speaks.

“Are you complaining?” he asks, his voice gravelly.

I smirk. All I want to do is kiss him and taste the coffee on his lips. But I don’t make a move. It’s good for the man to sweat it out a bit. “I didn’t say that.”

Collin’s eyes look nearly black, and he arches a single brow.

I bring my other hand up to the opposite side of his neck and begin kneading the skin there. His eyes fall closed, and he groans before blinking and pinning me with a look.

“What, then?”

“Had to make sure I leveled the playing field.” I pull his head down and kiss him hard and fast, drinking him in.

In no time, Collin’s hands are in my hair, up and down my back, like he’s trying to memorize every inch of me. Collin kisses like he lives. He’s in complete control, but there’s a playfulness about him in each of our embraces. He meets my energy now, and when he makes a move to trail kisses along my jawline, I use my fingers to bring his lips back to mine. I’m not done there yet. He smiles into my mouth, and his joy is infectious. Kissing him has become my new favorite pastime.

When I’m out of breath, I dial it back so I can savor the warmth of his mouth on mine and the way he holds me against his chest.

Like I’m a treasure he wants to keep close to his heart.

I never thought I’d feel treasured again.

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