Page 48 of Miss Humbug
And I liked it. I didn’t want him to stop, but the act surprised me so much, I’d flinched.
“It’s actually okay,” I said. “It’s your loss for touching my dirty sock.”
He shook his head, faintly grinning.
We shifted positions a few more times through the movie until I ended up leaning against him. More like I was overtaking the small couch and crushing him into the corner.
A particularly quiet scene on screen caused me sudden and acute awareness of our couch position. He hadn’t complained, but this was probably too much. I turned to adjust and my nose met his chin.
“Sorry, I—”
“It’s okay,” he interrupted.
But there was nowhere for him to go until I moved. And I was sort of stuck in the crack between the cushions. I inched up to free myself from the quicksand couch until our noses aligned at the same level. Which meant our lips aligned as well.
Our lips. A mere breath from each other.
“Hey.” He spoke in the quietest voice I’d ever heard from him.
It wasn’t a complainingHey. More like a,Hey, this is new. Or a,Hey, hello, you’re a single inch from my face.
I dared not breathe. “Hey.”
Ask to kiss me. Tell me you want to kiss me. Just kiss me.
We hovered for another million seconds until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I closed the minuscule gap between us.
It was happening. I was kissing Ethan Sawyer.
Ethan kissed me back. Tentative at first but definitely willing. Sure and certain pressure that felt new and familiar at the same time.
His lips were warm and reminded me of home. Like a thousand memories strung together. He tasted faintly of mint. And perfection.
I eased apart from him, out of breath. He looked me in the eyes. Deeply. A nervous energy edged a laugh out of both of us.
So that just happened.
We finished the movie without speaking. Hopefully we’d get a sequel. To the movie. To the kissing too, but I was too freaked to think about it further.
I shut the movie off, stretched, and made a production of yawning. Ethan took the hint. I followed him out to the mudroom area by the side door. He laced up his boots.
“I’m okay with what happened.” He stood, coat in hand, because true as he said, the man ran hot. I’d felt those hot lips with my own. Delicious, heated lips that sent shockwaves through me.
“Okay.” I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t good at this. I wasn’t good at thiswith Ethanbecause we’d never done this before.
One simple kiss and I was struck speechless.
“Maybe we can talk about it more tomorrow?” He nodded in a way to suggest I could nod along with him and understanding would occur.
“Yes. Yes, tomorrow.Tomorrow.” Why had I emphasized the word tomorrow like that? I sounded textbook awkward. Look up the word and check out my photo beside the definition. “It’s not like I haven’t kissed anyone before. I’ve had boyfriends, you know.”
He blinked. “I assume you have. You went out with Blane Chandler, didn’t you?”
Blane Chandler, a flash from the past. “His name always sounded to me like a country club or a golf course.The Blane Chandler Memorial Golf Greens.” I snickered.
“Marlowe.” He stepped closer. “It’s okay. What happened doesn’t have to mean anything more.”
He was absolutely acting more mature about this than me. We were adults. One kiss should not throw me off like this.
