Page 111 of Let's Kiss and Tell

“Hey.”

“This is fine, right?” I say softly. “We have enough distance.”

“I’m fine with it if you’re fine with it,” Marsh forces out like he’s actually the complete opposite of fine.

“What if I wasn’t fine with it?”

“Then I would sleep on the couch.”

“No,” I say quickly. “I mean…what if I wasn’t fine with the space between us? What if Idon’twant space between us?”

“Lucy,” Marsh huffs. “You can’t say stuff like that when we’re in the same bed together.”

“Why not?” I ask, genuinely needing to know the answer. Not understanding why we’re pretending we don’t want each other anymore.

We crossed an undeniable line today. I don’t see Marsh as a guy I work with helping me for a story…He’sMarsh.The person who I told about my parents. The person whose family I just spent an entire day with. The person who let me in and revealed insecurities he can’t even share with the people he’s closest to.

“Because”—he shoots out of bed and up to his feet, pacing back and forth—“I’m not strong enough.”

“Hey.” I sit up and crawl over to the edge of the bed where he’s standing. “Marsh,” I say desperately, and his gaze finally meets mine.

“I’m not strong enough for this.” He lets out a huff. “I need to get another room.”

“Can you come here, please,” I say.

“Lucy—”

“Please.”

Marsh slowly walks toward me, and I have to get on my knees to meet his level. I hold my hand out and he takes it. There’s that heat again deep in my belly, an ember that catches only whenever Marsh touches me.

“Do you want me?” I ask.

Marsh’s mouth twists, our eyes glue to each other, and he looks more upset than I’ve ever seen him.

“What kind of a question is that?” he asks. “Of course I want you, Lucy. I wanted you the minute I saw you. I want you every single fucking second of every single fucking day.”

“Then have me,” I say.

The muscles in his jaw leap, and his voice becomes low. “We can’t.”

“Tell me why.” I put my hands on his chest.

A good reason would be our careers. How closing the space between us puts both of our jobs on the line if anyone were to find out. But right now, that doesn’t feel important. The consequences don’t feel real. As each minute went by today another layer was peeled on both our ends. Marsh is a giant safety net that I want to fall into because I know he’ll catch me.

“I…” Marsh’s sighs become heavier, more frustrated. “I swear I can’t think of a single good reason right now.”

“Good,” I say. “Neither can I.”

I take his hands and put them on my waist. Suddenly it feels like my entire body is in his grip. I want Marsh. I want him with every part of me, and I don’t believe in denying yourself something that you want.

He looks at me, his eyes dark, inky. “I don’t want to take advantage of our arrange—”

“I’m a big girl,” I say. “I know what taking advantage looks like, and trust me, this isn’t it.” I massage my fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure that I wanted to have sex with someone.”

Marsh’s chest rises and he moves his hands around my body. Exploring my shoulders, arms, and waist like he doesn’t know where to start. His eyes are fierce and hungry. The ember in me catches. The heat starts to spread deep in every crevice of my body.

“I’ve been thinking about that night at the club,” I admit.