Page 29 of Beating Heart
He moved forward after placing the bandage on my knee, and he stood between my legs, catching me off guard again. His face was so close to mine that I couldn’t move. “What are you used to, Emerson?”
Great question. What am I used to?
Bad sex. Zero loyalty. Lies. Betrayal. Need I say more?
My eyes zoned in on his plump lips. His gray eyes bored into mine. And I wanted to feel his mouth on mine. His lips. His tongue. I wanted to press my body to his bare chest and feel his arms wrapped around me.
His warm breath tickled my cheek. The tip of his nose grazed mine.
He was so close I could taste him.
Mint and pine and masculine, sexy man.
My hands moved to his chest, desperate to feel his muscles beneath my fingertips.
To feel something.
Anything.
It had been so long.
So long since I’d felt wanted.
This longing ache lay heavy on my chest.
I. Want. Him. To. Kiss. Me.
And just when I thought the night couldn’t get any more embarrassing, he startled and pulled back. His thumb traced over my cheek, when I realized a tear had escaped my eye.
Scratch that. Multiple tears had escaped my eyes.
I was crying.
I was freaking crying after eating shit in his front yard.
Could this night get any worse?
“Hey. Are you okay?” The concern in his eyes had my chest squeezing.
I pushed down off the counter to stand and swiped at my face. “Yes. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here. I just—I need to go. Thanks for the bandage.”
He narrowed his gaze, and I turned to leave.
I couldn’t get out of there quick enough.
What the hell was that?
He’d almost kissed me. And more alarming—I’d wanted him to.
I shook my head after I ran through the yard and walked through my door. Winnie was still lying on the couch in a ball, and she lifted her head.
“Don’t judge me, Winiford,” I said, as I moved to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of wine.
My phone vibrated on the counter, and I picked it up.
Unknown Number
Hey. It’s your neighbor, Nash. Just making sure you’re okay.
