Page 120 of Wish You Were Mine
“If you could take out the trash, that’d be awesome,” I said, nodding toward the near-overflowing bin, trying to keep the sudden spike of nerves in check.
Because we are alone.
I mean, Theo and Charlotte were upstairs, so we weren’t alone-alone.
But since Charlotte usually took at least thirty minutes to fall asleep—after convincing Theo to read her no fewer than three bedtime stories—it wasn’t likely anyone would be joining us anytime soon.
“On it,” he said, grabbing the bag and tying it off.
A few minutes later, he was back—liner replaced, water running as he washed his hands at the sink.
I grabbed the stack of paper plates from the counter and opened the pantry door, just as he stepped up behind me with a rolled-up bag of chips in hand.
“Sorry,” I mumbled when my arm grazed against his chest, the narrow space making it impossible not to brush against each other.
“It’s fine,” he said, but I didn’t miss the way his voice sounded huskier than usual.
I turned slightly, meaning to make more room, but all it did was bring us closer. His body was just inches from mine, and the air became instantly charged, making my skin prickle.
I could smell him, clean and warm, familiar now, and so stupidly comforting.
“You smell really good,” I said, looking up at him through my lashes, suddenly aware of every breath, every heartbeat.
“Thank you,” he murmured, looking down at me with his dark eyes that always seemed to see into my soul. “So do you.”
And even though now would probably be the time to step out of the pantry…
He didn’t move.
And neither did I.
The silence thickened, stretching tight and taut around us, like the air itself was holding its breath.
My eyes flicked up to his.
And that was all it took.
Because the look he gave me wasn’t neutral. It wasn’t casual.
It was hungry.
His gaze dropped to my mouth, and suddenly, everything in me went still.
Was he thinking what I was thinking?
That maybe it was okay to steal a little moment after all?
Just one.
I mean, it’s not like anyone would find out…
As if reading my mind, Owen reached out. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from my cheek, barely touching me, but it sent a jolt of heat straight down my spine.
I didn’t breathe. Didn’t dare.
One wrong move, and I’d shatter the moment.
But then his hand lingered, his fingertips trailing lightly down my jaw.
