Page 88 of Faking Cinderella
Riding wood is better.
And I miss?—
“Hello? You guys here?”
Rhys and I break apart, me panting, him drawing a deep breath as he swipes his thumb over his mouth.
His eyes are dark.
Hungry or haunted, I can’t tell.
“Margie?” one of the triplets calls again. “Rhys?”
Definitely one of the triplets, but I can’t tell them apart by voice yet.
Calling for me first suggests Lucky, but it could be Jack.
Definitely not Decker.
“Yes, we’re in the bathroom,” I call back, hearing the frantic desperation that comes from interrupted kissing in my voice.
I shove Rhys in that direction.
“Ahhh…” answers me from the direction of the living room.
“First aid!” I call, my voice higher and tighter. “Giving first aid!”
“Is that a euphemism?”
Rhys doesn’t smirk.
Just watches me, quiet, poker-faced, while he lets me push him into the bathroom.
“What?” I whisper.
“I don’t like how much I like you.”
One more thing we have in common. “Everyone has issues. Happy to be yours.”
He stares at me for another beat, and then he does the best-worst thing he could possibly do.
The man has the absolute audacity to smile back at me.
Eyes crinkling at the edges. The barest dimple appearing in his stubbled cheek. Front tooth just a little crooked.
He’s fucking beautiful when he smiles.
And I don’t know what to do with that.
I just know it’s not good.
13
CINNAMON AND SUGAR AND I THINK SHE BROKE ME
Rhys
Lucky,who showed up under the pretense of checking the propane tank, stays for dinner, which is good.
