Page 59 of The Magic We Made

Now he simply looks baffled. “I didn’t even know you made me a binder.”

“Well, I did!”

The moon has risen fully from the treetops. In its cold blue light, I can see that his lips look just as perfectly formed as they had earlier today, when I’d first noticed them.

Only now those perfectly formed lips are beckoning to me.Kiss me,they seem to be whispering.

But that’s absurd. I don’t want to kiss Ash Merit. I want to kill Ash Merit.

“Fine,” Ash is saying. Puffs of light-blue steam come out of his mouth as he speaks. “I’ll read it. I’ll go home and read the whole thing right now, if that’s what you want. I’ll do whatever I have to do to let you know that I’m not that guy.”

“What guy?”

“Dr. Dick! I think that guy is an asshole. Anyone who would willingly leave you is an asshole—unless they couldn’t help it, like your dad. But anyone who can’t see how smart, funny, beautiful—”

“Ash.”

“No, don’t try to deny it. You’re beautiful, Francesca. Beautiful, intelligent, kind... and anyone who can’t see it... well, that’s their problem. You’re always there for everyone else—your patients, your family, your friends, even the fucking UPS guy. But who is there foryou?”

“Plenty of people.” I look at him, standing there in the moonlight, his expression so sincere. There isn’t an ounce of guile in this guy. It’s kind of refreshing. “I have friends, you know, Ash.”

“I know you do. ButIshould be one of them.Iwant to be your friend. I want to bemorethan friends, but I’ll settle for friendship if that’s all I can get. Why can’t we just be friends instead of enemies, or neighbors, or whateverthisis?” He waves a hand between the two of us on the wordthis. “This isn’t what I want!”

I find myself shaking my head. I’m looking at his lips again. I don’t want to but I can’t seem to look away. “It’s not what I want, either.”

He frowns. “Well, whatdoyou want, then?”

“This,” I say.

And then, before I can stop myself, I reach out, wrap both my hands around the lapels of his expensive sports coat, and drag him toward me until those lips meet mine.

Ash

On the rare occasions my dad spoke to me instead of yelled, it was almost always about how you have to be prepared.

“You never know what’s going to happen,” he always said. “You gotta be ready for it.”

I don’t know where he got all his bullshit about being prepared. He never served in the military. He was never even in Boy Scouts. When shit got real at home or even at his office, he always headed straight for a bottle of bourbon. He was the least prepared of anyone I ever met.

I took his advice, though. I always try to prepare for the unexpected.

But nothing could have prepared me for being kissed by Francesca Giovanni.

She didn’t just kiss me, either. She pressed her body up against me. I could feel everything through the material of that dress. It fit her like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Then, as quickly as her lips—and body—pressed against mine,she was gone, releasing me and jumping back to nervously tuck a strand of that long dark hair behind her ear. She isn’t used to wearing it loose.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “Was that okay?”

“That wasmorethan okay!” I hope I sound enthusiastic enough. My voice has gotten a little hoarse, maybe because when she kissed me, I could feel her nipples pressing against me through the feather-soft material of her dress. They were as hard as they’d looked this morning when she’d been in her swimsuit, only this time, I don’t think it’s because she’s cold. I’m hard as a rock, too, and it has nothing to do with the temperature.

Maybe she’s noticed this, since she takes another step away from me, this time toward her house.

But if I thought it was because she’s calling it a night, I’m soon corrected.

“Come on,” she says. “Let’s do this.”

I just stand there staring at her. She can’t be talking about what I think she’s talking about.