Page 22 of Run, Run, Roommates
I swallow, and my eyes drop to his mouth. “If we wanted to,” I agree. I lick my lips and his gaze follows. This is bad. Everything I’ve ever felt, all the yearning and pent-up frustration, is overriding all the reasons why I shouldn’t be risking my living situation, the tiny amount of financial security that I have right now, like this. All I know is that I want to kiss him.
A flare of a memory from earlier today pops into my head: Marco looking for a reason not to kiss me under the mistletoe. The way he was quiet and reserved afterward.
“You didn’t want to kiss me this morning,” I say.
“No.”
Our noses are almost touching. I’m having a hard time focusing on anything but his lips.
“Why not?”
He gazes at me, studying my face, while I look up at him. When he speaks again, his voice is rough. “Because I wanted our first kiss to be something more like this.”
It’s so soft, at first. His lips barely brush mine, and my eyes flutter closed. His kiss gets firmer with each pass, our lips not even breaking apart. There’s no end, just a continuous roll of our breaths mingling together, my mouth softening under his. His tongue teases with a gentleness that makes my knees weak. Marco’s arms slide down as I open to him, pulling me up, pressing me harder against him. I’m barely on my toes and Marco’s arms, his body, curl around me.
And then it’s deep and plundering. I let out a moan and Marco answers. Fire flicks up my insides, my whole body responding to his. I can feel him hard against my belly and I press my hips forward, purposefully grinding against him.
Marco groans again, one hand banding me to him and the other in my hair, holding me to him. I’m bent back, my hands inside his jacket, wrapping around his back and clawing at him, desperate for more contact.
Simultaneously, our phones buzz. Marco’s is in his jacket pocket, so it vibrates against my shoulder, while mine is in my purse against my hip.
We pull back, my feet hitting the ground, and cold air rushes between us. Marco’s lips are swollen, and I swallow hard. I let go of him, raising my fingers to my lips to feel their matching tenderness.
Have we just jeopardized our friendship, our living situation? If Marco knew how much of a mess my life was, he wouldn’t be kissing me. He probably wouldn’t even want to be roommates with me anymore, because I’m one lost job away from drowning, from needing more of his charity.
And that’s something I’ll never let happen again.
12
Marco
Brin looks up at me with wide eyes.
I’m afraid I’m going to fuck up my relationship with Brin. I have a history, after all, of ruining relationships with people who are important to me.
It’s not too late, I remind myself. It was one kiss.
One spectacularly hot kiss.
Oh shut up, brain. You’re an asshole, just like the rest of me.
“That was probably dumb, wasn’t it?” Brin looks up at me.
“Oh god.” I squeeze my eyes closed. Brin has so much to lose here, I know that. She works so goddamn hard and the last thing she needs is me fucking up her living situation by making everything uncomfortable. “I’m sorry?—”
“I’m sorry too. That was?—”
“—I shouldn’t have done that?—”
“—a really bad idea?—”
“—because I like our living situation.”
“Yeah.” Brin bites her lip. “I do too. And as epic as that kiss was, I’m not dating, you know, or . . .”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. And”—I rub the back of my neck—“it’s chemistry, obviously. We’re friends. We like each other.”
“Chemistry,” Brin echoes. “I don’t have a whole lot of experience in that department.” She waves her hands between us.
