Page 93 of The Score

I take a deep, calming breath. It helps. Somewhat.

"Penélope. Help me out. What should we do?"

If she doesn't tell me something innocent, I'm going to end up asking her for those sexy list items and going for one of them.

I busy myself by peeking out of the curtain, but there's no one waiting to use the booth. Pen and I can take our time. It's a problem, all things considered.

"Leon. How would I know? You're the expert at romance."

I rub the back of my neck. I chew the inside of my lip. This should be as simple as helping her do everythingfamily friendlyon her bucket list, but I'm overtaken by my overeager heart.

Anything she's ever told me, I've believed. Trying to see a sudden spark of romantic interest in her eyes can't be the way I fail her. Giving in to sexy feelings would be just as bad. There's no way I would keep the lines straight in my head, and not confuse intimacy for love.

"Come on," she says. "I know you're thinking of something."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," I finally say.

"I haven't gotten uncomfortable. Remember?"

We lock eyes. She's thinking of the moment I touched her leg.

She stares at me with an intensity I've never seen in her before.

If this were anyone else, I'd take it as a damn sign.

A sign.

That she could be looking at me in ways she never has before too.

Fuck.

I need to ask my heart to step aside. Maybe then we'll find the right boundaries, and do something sexy that won't push us too far into dangerous territory.

I move closer. "We could go for a clinch moment."

"A… clinch moment?"

She stares at me with wide open eyes, and a spark that— yes— fuck. The kind of spark I wanted to see there tonight.

I gulp. "A classic in some romance circles, especially historicals."

In a fanfic fest I followed once, they did art-based prompts. One of them was drawing the pair in a clinch like an old romance novel cover. It was epic. Now all I can think of is Pen and I in such a pose.

"I could look it up online and show you a picture," I say.

I'm close enough to see her chest overworking. Well, then.

She licks her lips. "Why don't you show me what you mean instead?"

"This is going to be very couple-y."

"Do you mind?"

Ha.

I shake my head. "Not at all."

"Then I don't, either." Her voice is breathless.