Page 52 of Snatched
“This is a terrible summary,” she mutters.
“Yeah, I know,” I admit. “I’m flustered.”
Her head snaps up.
“You’reflustered?”
“I’m trying not to be,” I say. “It’s not working very well.”
She presses her lips together, like she doesn’t know what to do with that information.
Then she blurts it out.
“Well, if wewereto, um, make out or whatever?—”
I freeze, and she freezes back.
Time freezes while her eyes go impossibly wide.
“Oh god,” she whispers. “I can’t believe I just said that. Pretend I didn’t say that.”
“No,” I say quietly. “I heard it. Curious about the ‘or whatever’ part of that.”
“I’m mortified.”
“I’m not.”
She blinks a few times, lost.
I lean forward, lowering my voice. “You were saying…if we were to make out.”
She inhales sharply. “Right. That. Hypothetically.”
“Hypothetically,” I echo, my pulse hammering.
She swallows.
Hard.
“It would have to be a casual thing,” she says quickly. “Like… very casual. Non-serious. Non-anything. I haven’t been with another man in way too long. And you know. There’s the age gap.”
“Seriously?”
“Hand to God. Seriously. I have issues.”
“Got it. Don’t we all.”
“And honestly?” She exhales, looking away. “I hate to say I’m not opposed to that. Some fun could be just what I need.”
A beat passes as the words hang in the air.Well, okay then.
Every muscle in my body goes tight.
I nod slowly. “I’m…not opposed either.”
Her eyes snap back to mine.
And suddenly it’s like the table doesn’t exist, the room doesn’t exist, the entire world has condensed into the twelve inches between us.
