Page 144 of My Merry Mistake
My breath hitches, and I hold his gaze as his eyes search mine, seeing me in a way no one ever has. I reach up and press my hand against the side of his face, then pull him lower until finally our lips meet.
He takes my face in his hands, kissing me so fully, so intently, that I lose my breath.
My head spins. His lips search mine, firm but soft, and I force myself not to think, not to worry what this means, not to let reason get in the way right now. In this moment, there’s only Finn and me, and I like it that way. Our bodies are close as he deepens the kiss, my heart racing with desire for this man I shouldn’t want but really, really do.
He pulls back and breathes my name on a shaky exhale, still holding my face, eyes searching feverishly for a place to land.
My lips tingle, and reality sets in. “Oh my gosh.” I cover my mouth with my hand, eyes wide, searching. “Oh my gosh.” My other hand rests on his chest, the remnant of that kiss still hanging in the space between us.
“Don’t freak out,” he says calmly.
I shake my head and clear my throat.
He steps back from me, and his hands move to my arms. “You’re freaking out.”
“I think—” I look away.
“Hart,” he says. “Talk to me.”
“I’m so sorry.” I shake my head. “That was a mistake.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Raya
Iam not in control.
I let my emotions take over the reasoning part of my brain, and now that reason has returned, my mind is spiraling. Nobody has ever kissed me so intently, so purposefully. This isn’t just me getting caught up in my feelings—it’s more than that. Finn has the power to wound me—more than anyone else ever could.
How did I let myself get in so deep?
I push past him into the living room trying to calm my loopy, fluttery, ridiculous feelings—the ones I always avoid. The ones that are exactly why I started my dating experiment in the first place.
And even though that failed, that doesn’t change the reason I did it.
How do I undo feelings? I’m usually so good at keeping them in check, at keeping everyone at arm’s length, at never getting close enough to risk the real thing.
I’m close now, and I don’t know how to back out.
He follows me into the living room. “Raya, I’m sorry if?—”
I cut him off. “That can’t happen again.” I hear the uncertainty in my own voice. Or maybe what I really hear is fear.
He straightens. “We’ve been dancing around this thing for months.”
I take a step back. “See, this is why I knew being friends with you was a bad idea.”
“Because you realized you actually want to be more than friends?” He isn’t backing down. Why isn’t he backing down?
I feel myself get defensive. “No. Because this is what you do. You flirt and turn everything into a game. It’s confusing.”
“It’s not a game,” he says, voice tense. “Look, I know you appreciate bluntness, so let me say it plain so there’s no confusion.” He waits until I dare to meet his eyes. “I have feelings for you. Real ones. And I’m sick of pretending I don’t because it might freak you out. I don’t care if you’re freaked out. Maybe you need to be freaked out if that’s what it’s going to take to get you to admit there’s something here.”
I freeze for a split second, turn a circle, then rush over and flip on one of the lamps. It’s tooromanticin here with the white lights of the Christmas tree.
He moves toward me. “Listen, I know you think what you want is someone just like you. But have you ever considered that maybe you need someone who is completely opposite of the guy you have in your head?”
He takes another step toward me, and I turn away, holding up a hand. I’m so conflicted, feelings raw and exposed in a way that makes me feel ashamed.
