Page 42 of Bookworm
“Because,” he said, whispering. “Han got the girl.”
He didn’t wait for me to respond before he kissed me, his tongue parting the seam of my lips. With a moan, I opened for him and he dove in, devouring my kiss like I was the appetizer to tonight’s dinner.
Breathless and panting, we parted from the kiss. Every area of my body ached for more of Adam. More of his mouth, his touch… his heart.
“Then again,” he said, “maybe tonight would be better served with takeout and a movie in?”
I shook my head, pushing him gently to arm’s length. “No way I spent forty minutes doing my makeup just to sit on a couch of cat fur, eating pad thai. There’s plenty of time left forthosedates later.”
His eyes flashed. “I like the sound of that.”
I ran back over my words, trying to figure out what he meant. “The sound of Pad thai?”
“The sound of you planning future dates for us.”
I wasn’t sure what the future held for Adam and me. I didn’t know where my next job would take me or if I’d be happy staying in New England. But I knew I was happy right now. I knew I wanted more time with Adam. As much time as was possible.
If I wasn’t careful, I’d plan a whole future for us in the blink of an eye.
My entire adult life I was taught that was bad. That men hated that. That they preferred casual relationships and you had to wait three days between dates to text them.
But based on Adam’s expression right now? It was obvious that he was anything but typical.
And it was almost as scary as it was exciting.
Almost.
Chapter Twelve
Two hours. Two margarita flights. And two of the tiniest tacos known to man.
It was one of those fancy Latin-fusion restaurants where you pay seven bucks per taco. Not per plate of tacos. Literally one stinkin’ taco is seven bucks. I was used to a plate of three tacos for every seven dollar order.
But not here.
Don’t get me wrong. The taco was delicious. Then again, it’s pretty hard to fuck up a taco. But after two flights of margaritas and only two small tacos, I was pretty tipsy.
And judging from the way Adam’s cheeks were flushed and pink and he was awfully giggly, I was guessing he was feeling the alcohol, too.
Thankfully we had walked here from our apartment building. That was the beauty of living in a college town… almost everything you could need was only a short walk away.
“Awww, c’mon!” Adam’s voice was way more loud than usual. Luckily, the restaurant was packed and filled with other date nights of people drinking and laughing. “I’m totally Han Solo. I got the elbow patches and everything!”
He lifted his arm to show me his elbow patches. Which I definitely appreciated. God bless a man with elbow patches.
“Your elbow patches are very sexy, Adam…”
His eyes glinted as I said that and his tongue slid over his bottom lip. Heat flashed over my face at the sight and I ignored the way the room vibrated around me in my tipsy state. “You like them?”
“You know I like your elbow patches. But…”
“But?!”
“But… Han Solo didn’t wear elbow patches!”
He snorted and fell back in his chair crossing his arms. “Noooo, but Indiana Jones did!”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. You can be Indy. Or even Harrison Ford. But you’re not Han,” I teased.
