Page 47 of Clouded by Envy

The next song started, and sheknewit—not the name of it—but she had heard it in a movie somewhere.

Before Wes could react, Bray was on her feet and reached her hand out for his. “Dance with me?” she asked him, bouncing happily.

“You want me to dance?” He laughed and looked at her like she was insane.

“Yes!” She waggled her hand out in front of him again. He closed his eyes and shook his head but grabbed her hand anyway, trying not to smile.

She was terrible, he was terrible—but they were terrible together. His entire body was too stiff as he nodded his head and shuffled his feet side to side. She was overly energetic as she hopped around in circle after circle, not feeling the least bit exhausted.

Once the song came to an end, Wes went to sit back down, and she stopped him. “Just one more. Please?”

“Since you said please and all, okay. But let me pick the song.”

“Okay!” she said eagerly.

Wes pressed the next button on the stereo several times and stood back in front of her. “The last song already tired me out, so I picked a slower one this time,” he said as the next track started to play. “I’m only twenty-three and feel so old.” He chuckled.

Wes held his hand out to Bray, and she placed hers in his. They talked and swayed, and he attempted to spin her in a circle. That didn’t work out too well, but it made them laugh. Then he pulled her closer to his body—the closeness doing something to her insides—something jittery.

Bray’s eyes were drawn to his mouth, then up to that small pale scar on the side of his upper lip. Her gaze finally met his as he stared down at her. They watched each other for what felt like hours when in reality the moment only lasted a few minutes.

Without thinking, she looked back at his scar and reached her hand up, brushing her finger delicately against the skin. His eyes automatically closed, and she asked, “How did you get that?”

He snapped his head forward and softly bit her finger. It didn’t hurt the slightest, but she yelped out of surprise. “Got ya. You’re hard to scare,” he whispered, and she playfully narrowed her eyes at him. “There isn’t a battle wound story for me to tell you. I got it when I was learning to ride my bike. When I fell on the grass, a sharp piece of glass cut me. My mom freaked out, but it wasn’t bad enough to need stitches or anything.”

“You’re right, that was a lousy story,” she said mockingly.

“Was it?” he challenged, pulling her closer.

“It was,” she said with no real force, her face drifting up to his.

“What a shame,” he drawled. Then his mouth was on hers, just as the oven timer went off, letting them know the pizza was ready.

17

Bray

The pizza is ready.Startled, Bray left her mouth glued to Wes’s, even with the annoying buzz of the alarm going off.

Wes pulled his mouth back from hers, a gleam in his eyes as he gazed at her. “Screw that pizza,” he said, and his mouth connected with hers again. His mouth caressed hers, lips moving in sync, then he stepped back. “Okay, wait right here. Don’t go anywhere.” She wasn’t sure shecouldmove.

Darting for the kitchen, Wes flung open the stove with an oven mitt already on and grabbed the pizza. The pan landed on top of the stove with a loud clank.

Bray watched him with amusement.

The kiss was magical—she could barely remember the other guy she had kissed. Bray didn’t want to remember it either, because they had been drinking, and she did it all just to forget about Ruth. This … she didn’t want to forget this moment.

Wes stood back in front of her and lifted a hand to her cheek. “I don’t think it would’ve been a good idea to let the house burn down.”

She giggled and pressed her lips softly against his, and then moved her mouth a hairsbreadth from his ear, smelling his clean scent from the shower. “No, it wouldn’t have been, but I have a good idea now.” She pressed her lips softly to his neck, right below his earlobe.

Wes’s arms trailed down the sides to her lower back, tugging her closer against him. “What’s the idea?”

“I’ll show you,” she hinted.

His mouth was on hers again, slow and sweet as she walked him down the hall. He knew the way without the slightest stumble, scuffing his feet backward until they were in his bedroom.

The back of Wes’s legs hit the bed, and he fell back, pulling her down on top of him. His hands moved to her face, the intensity of the kiss increasing. He tasted sweeter than anything she’d ever had, and a part of her wanted to kiss him forever, never losing the taste.

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