Page 78 of From Drummer to Gamer

And instead of running a mile in the opposite direction, I took a step toward her instead.

One.

Two.

Three.

Till her back hit the countertop, and an inch separated us. Hooking a finger, I lifted her chin, bringing those beautiful eyes back to me.

The heat from her skin flowed to mine, and her beautiful hazel eyes stared back at me with so much innocence and trust that it made me want to keep her in my arms and never let go.

Ever.

My height swallowed her small frame, her chin barely touched my chest, and it only ticked my protective instincts more.

“Sierra,” I said in a throaty whisper.

“Yes?” she whispered, licking her lips.

Those plush, soft pink lips that I wanted pressing over mine while I traced their softness, taste, and warmth with my own lips.

My fascination—my unredeemable, unexplainable, unfounded fascination with her—wasn’t confusion, and it certainly wasn’t a clueless intrigue. It wasn’t lust or mere attraction. It wasyearning.

I yearned for Sierra Chan like she was the air that flamed my soul.

A firecracker that sparked my entire being in bright, loud colors.

But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I glided my thumb across her full bottom lip, and her breaths came out in rasps as her pupils widened. This close, I could see the fiery amber specks lining her iris, adding warmth to her hazel eyes.

She was so fucking beautiful that it hurt my chest.

“You’re beautiful,” I muttered.

She swallowed. “I am?”

“Of course you are,” I said, satisfaction flooding my blood when the pinks in her cheeks spread across to the tops of her chest, peeking through the zipper of her hoodie.

As I leaned closer, logic and order fled my brain.

I knew I shouldn’t be doing this.

I knew I shouldn’t be crossing this line.

I knew this was going to be a bad fucking idea.

But practicality be fucked to hell.

I’d happily pay the price of burning in hell for the taste of her lips.

She looked at me expectantly as my fingers under her chin glided over to cup her cheek, and just as I hovered my lips over her, barely an inch away…

“Yo, is that Mom’s congee I smell?” That brat’s voice filtered through the room, and my little firecracker yelped and jumped away from me like her ass was on fire.

She clutched her heart, her face red as a ripe cherry as she gaped at me from the other side of the breakfast table.

Just that second, Raphael entered the room. Pausing over the doorway, he frowned, his eyes sliding back and forth between us.

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