Page 61 of Love in the Stacks
She rolls her eyes. “Can I ask you multiple questions?”
I laugh. “You can ask me whatever questions you want.”
“How long have you been interested in me?”
Oh boy. Moment of truth, I guess. “Since the first time I saw you, standing with Herb in my office doorway the day you came to interview,” I answer honestly.
Her eyes widen. “Really? All that time? Why didn’t you say anything before?”
I shrug and smile. “I have no game.”
She laughs. “But I like that about you,” she says. “I don’t like games. My ex played far too many, and I never knew where I stood with him. I was always on edge.”
What a jerk. I will never understand men who feel the need to keep women guessing. It speaks to their own insecurities.
She blushes and looks away. “Sorry. I guess it’s bad form to talk about an ex on a first date.”
“I don’t mind,” I say. “I want to know everything about you. Truly. Besides, this doesn’t really feel like a first date, does it?”
She’s quiet for a moment. “No,” she says with surprise in her voice. “It really doesn’t.”
I grin. “Must be because we’ve already spent so much time together. The whole romance trope of work colleagues to friends to lovers…” I feel my face burning as I trail off. I can’t believe I justsaid that.
She bursts out laughing. “Let’s not jump ahead,” she teases.
I feel heat all the way up to the tips of my ears, not only from embarrassment, but now Iamjumping ahead, in my brain at least.Shut it down, Adam, I order myself as I picture my palms sliding over Nicole’s curves, fingers tangling in soft, lavender hair. Maybe it’s my imagination, considering my current train of thought, but Nicole’s eyes look darker, her cheeks flushing as she bites her lip.
I clear my throat. “Anyway,” I say.
“Anyway,” she echoes. We stare at each other for a beat.
“Nowit kind of feels like a first date,” she says, her eyes twinkling.
“Yeah, I made things awkward. My superpower,” I say dryly.
Nicole laughs. “Everyone has to be good at something,” she quips, and we’re grinning at each other.
I hold her gaze, and the grin on her face dips. She leans closer, holding eye contact. My heart drums in my chest, and I’m getting that jittery feeling again. I’m hypnotized in this moment, standing at the precipice of the desire that has been fizzing inside me since I sat captivated in Nicole’s interview presentation almost two years ago. We’ve been locked in a back and forth these last several months, me pushing forward, scraping for any morsel of progress, and her flitting away again even when I think she’ll linger. And I let her go every time, hoping she’d flutter back to me, that she’d recognize me as a safe place to land.
I survey her now, tendrils of pastel hair loose and wild around her face. Emerald eyes dilated and deep, like the most verdant jungle. Smooth skin tinted red on the apples of her cheeks, just under acluster of delicate freckles. Pink lips supple and pinched between her teeth. Glowing. Ethereal. Ephemeral.
Before I can overthink it, I’m drifting forward. I slide my free hand onto the back of her neck and my eyes drop closed. Nicole gasps softly just as my lips brush against hers, gently, tentatively inquiring. She answers me back with an assurance that steals my breath. Her hand moves to rest on my thigh, gripping the fabric of my shorts, and I angle my head closer, pressing harder, tasting the chocolate on her mouth. I inhale through my nose and smell the thick, sugary ice cream and the ginger zest of her skin. The heat that has been simmering between us all night, for months now, really, finally boils over as we come together, no longer a back and forth, but a union, a blending of sensibilities and fervor.
Her teeth scrape against my bottom lip, and I suppress a moan. Distracted, I let her take the lead as she parts my lips with her tongue. I trail a hand down her spine as I push her closer into me.
Suddenly, I’m jolted out of the best kiss of my life by a shocking cold sensation. I’m utterly confused at first, my brain not making connections between the sensations I’m feeling and the nerve endings where they’re occurring. A glance at Nicole’s face tells me she's just as perplexed as to what might have happened, why I pulled away. Finally, I look at my elbow and see Nicole’s half eaten ice cream cone, still grasped in her hand, pressing against my forearm.
“Oh,” I say. I look up at Nicole, and her cheeks are flushed.
“I … I forgot I was holding it,” she manages.
I laugh and kiss her quickly on the lips. God, she’s adorable. As I emerge from my Nicole-induced haze, more details take shape. Forone, the ice cream cone in my left hand is dripping messily onto my shoes.
“I guess we both got a little carried away.” I smile sheepishly.
“I didn’t mind,” Nicole says boldly, holding my gaze.
“Me neither,” I murmur. “But maybe let’s get some napkins.”
