One second he was kissing me as if I was as essential to him as oxygen, and the next it was over. He stepped away, looking haunted.
"Did I do something wrong?"
I touched my mouth, missing the heat of him.
"No." He shook his head and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. I didn't want his hands in his pockets. I wanted them on me.
"Why did you--?"
"Not because I wanted to stop kissing you."
He looked at my lips. My pulse sped up, but my blood felt like lava moving through my veins.
"Timing. My timing sucks."
Circumstances. Not because of me. I couldn't keep myself from grinning.
"Why would you like to try this again then, another time?"
"I'd very much like to try this again, another time."
He grinned, but it carried a touch of sadness. "I'll give you a second to...fix your hair."
"My hair?"
"I'll give you a second to fix my hair. I mean, I'll give you a second while I go fix my hair." He let out a sigh. "I mean, I'll see you downstairs."
He turned to walk out of the room, but unfortunately, he forgot to open the door first. I managed to hold in my laughter until he got it right.
Didn't I just ask you to stop asking questions?"
"You asked me to stop for one second. You should have been more specific if you wanted longer." Having a big brother taught me quite a bit about arguing with the intent to wear down my opponent.
Isn't the information about your ability enough to digest right now?"
"The info is digested, Michael. As a matter of fact, it's so digested it's getting ready to come out as a big pile of sh-"
"Don't get snippy with me." His eyes flashed a warning.
"I'm not snippy. I'm mad," I returned through gritted teeth. "And your personal health is in danger if you don't fess up about what's going on.
And I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I was in the right place-okay," I amended when he raised his eyebrows. "The wrong place at the right time." More head shaking.
Myra McEntireAh, my old friend, anxiety-throwing itself into the blender with sheer terror and embarrassment.
Myra McEntireProbably she didn't bother with her hair because nothing could compete with her face.
Myra McEntireMy ass was grass, and big brother was the lawn mower.
Myra McEntireIt's not my goal to freak you out."
"Too bad," I answered. "Because that one was so solid it didn't even touch the net." Swish.
Nothing is going on."
"Hey, you're the one who tried to knock a security camera off the side of a building. That's a lot of pent-up frustration.
She might as well get to know the real you." Michael shrugged.
"I don't appreciate what that implies," Kaleb said through gritted teeth.
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