Page 8 of The Weight Of Falling
“I mind that you think the kiss was awful.”
“You know it wasn’t,” I burst out.
“Do I?” he asks idly.
And then I can’t help it. I have to know. Curiosity is eating away at me. “Didyouthink the kiss was awful?”
He folds his arms, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips. “You first. After all, you seem to like making the first move.”
Embarrassment crawls through me. I’m still dazed by how I acted, grabbing him like that and kissing him as though I couldn’t get enough of him. His response was just as fiery. Despite his teasing, I sense he’s as intrigued as I am by what happened in this storeroom.
I shift uncomfortably and take a step back, putting distance between us. “You know what, let’s not talk about this anymore.” I glance at the storeroom door. “I should go.”
His expression is inscrutable. “Good idea.”
I’m about to step past him, but then I stop. “Wait a minute, why areyouin here?”
Now it’s his turn to look uncomfortable.
There are only two reasons a person would slip into a storeroom at a wedding reception. One, they need cleaning supplies. Two, they’re meeting someone with the intention of keeping that meeting a secret.
My head jerks back and I stare in horror at the door. Had Joel arranged to meet a woman in here? Did I interrupt something?
“Mind out of the gutter, Kenzie,” he drawls.
The sound of him saying my name stirs something inside me. “You know who I am?”
“Yes.”
That’s all he gives me.
And then I think, of course he knows who I am. Because I’m not his type.
“So why are you in here?” I ask again.
He sighs. “I was trying to escape someone.”
I’m intrigued. “Who?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Farah,” I guess, remembering how she’d draped herself over him.
He rubs the back of his neck. “Yes.”
“So she’s not your date to the wedding?”
Surprise steals over his face. “No.”
“Oh.”
“And Bobby?”
I shake my head. “I came to the wedding alone. My decision to meet Bobby here was a...momentary lapse in judgment.” I clear my throat. “Like our kiss.”
He keeps his expression unreadable. It crosses my mind that this is a man who is used to concealing his feelings. Unlike me. Sofia and Tess tell me all the time that my face is like a giant neon sign lighting up with whatever emotion I’m experiencing.
I gesture back and forth between us. “No one can know about this.”
