Page 15 of Nicoli

My mouth goes dry, my flesh covered in goosebumps all because he’s so. Damn. Close.

Time has been paused. I’m sure of it. And sound is muted. Everything around us fades away the longer we stay within a few breaths’ distance from one another.

If this were a movie, this would be the part where the girl makes a complete ass of herself in front of a boy she’s had a crush on for years, because her brain just turned to mush.

I shift from one leg to the other.

“You need to stand still.”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder.”

I roll my eyes. “Do you have to be a dick?”

“Do you have to be a damsel in distress daily?”

“Excuse me?” I gape. “Daily? And I’m not a damsel in distress.”

He snorts. “Yet you’re the one hanging from the wall.”

“It was an ac-ci-dent,” I enunciate, spitting out every syllable.

“Next time you feel like becoming a permanent fixture in this house, don’t wear your favorite dress.”

I narrow my eyes with a glare. “Just unhook me.”

Nicoli inches closer and places a palm on my shoulder. It’s a simple touch, but it moves through me like flames through grass on the hottest day of the year. The annoyance I felt one second ago…gone.

My stomach twists into a thousand fiery knots, and my mind is incapable of telling my lungs to breathe. If a single touch from him has this effect on me, what would it feel like to be in his arms? To be kissed by him? To have his naked body against mine?

His hand is warm, his fingers gently brushing my skin—a sensation that somehow moves down my spine and pools between my thighs. And his scent makes everything worse because I love it. I love the earthy smell that always clings to him. Warm notes of amber-wood and pepper are amplified with hints of smoke and leather—a heady combination that’s addictive.

Nicoli’s hand is at my back, moving gently along the fabric of my dress, demonstrating expert finesse with a simple hook that I clearly cannot maneuver my dress away from without massive amounts of help.

His breath ghosts across the side of my neck, sending a subtle shudder through me, and I can’t help turning my face toward him, leaning closer. I’m lost. Transfixed in a moment that’s alive with anticipation.

I’m overwhelmed with a desire I have no right feeling, powerless as I look up, letting out a gentle gasp as our eyes meet. He’s so close, his face inches from mine, lips parted slightly, and I’m aching for him to close the gap. His gaze is so intense, conveying an unspoken need that completely consumes me, and I can’t help but feel like he’s looking right into my soul.

His hand stills behind my back, and I’m aware of every rise and fall of his chest, this magnetic pull between us making it impossible for me to move. The way he looks at me with such heated intensity sends my mind into an incoherent whirl, making any sensible thought impossible. This beautiful tension between us feels unbearable yet so deeply desired all at once.

“Mirabella,” he whispers, and the sound of my name on his lips is a powerful spell that wraps me up and keeps me captive.

I don’t want him to talk. I don’t want him to breathe. I just want him to kiss me.

He licks his lips, and my gaze drops to the movement, stirring a hunger that threatens to expose every fantasy I’ve ever had of him. Oxygen no longer reaches my lungs. Gravity no longer keeps me grounded. My mind has my body convinced he’s going to kiss me, and I’m helpless to resist.

As he lowers his face, dark strands of his hair brush along my temples. “I can’t…” There’s a tug at my back, and I close my eyes. “Got it,” he says, his voice low and dark.

I can’t move while he lingers for a few more breaths before taking a step back. “Be more careful next time, okay?”

Just like that, the spell is broken, and he’s walking away from me, leaving me a mess against the wall, wondering what the fuck just happened.

“Oh, my God,” I breathe, my body numb as if every drop of blood has been drained from my veins.

Did we…did something just…I’m not sure.

Did I imagine the last thirty seconds? Conjure it up with the part of my brain that seems to thrive on my attraction for Nicoli? Or…was it real? The connection that just blew up the Richter scale?

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