Page 65 of Kiss Me Like You Mean It

‘I can do all of that,’ Nico agrees, and I notice he’s clutching his mug quite tightly. God, this is so awkward.

I retreat to the safety of my notebook and tap the page. ‘And there’s kissing, of course.’ I can’t believe how calm I sound. All these years of hiding my feelings have been training me for this one, single moment. This is my emotionally repressed Olympics.

I look up and Nico’s eyes have dipped to my mouth. A muscle in his jaw tics. ‘You think we should kiss?’

‘According to Phoebe married people kiss all the time,’ I joke weakly. ‘We’re friends, so we don’t need to make this a big deal, just a couple of quick, friendly kisses here and there.’

He is really looking at me now, serious eye contact, an unreadable expression on his face. ‘I think I need a bit more guidance.’ I swear his voice has dropped even deeper than usual. There’s a gravelly quality to it that has my thighs clenching. ‘Maybe you could… show me.’

‘Show you how you could kiss me?’ I almost stumble over the words.

He doesn’t say anything, only nods.

‘Okay, sure,’ I say, trying to act casual while a thousand hysterical swear words run rapidly through my head. This is like my dream and my nightmare combined. I’m going to kiss Nico Hart. I’m going to kiss my husband, who must under no circumstances realise that this is anything more to me than pretend.

‘I can do that,’ I say. ‘That’s… practical.’

‘By all means.’ Something like amusement flickers in Nico’s face. ‘Let’s be practical.’

I get awkwardly to my feet, but he stays seated.

‘How do you want to…’ I gesture towards him, and he treats me to another long look.

His hand reaches out for mine, and he tugs me closer.

‘You want me to sit on your lap?’

His expression remains enigmatic. ‘It was one of the things you mentioned.’

‘Right, yes.’ I hover for a second and then slowly lower myself onto his right thigh. I sit, rigidly, concentrating on how to breathe. In and out.

‘You okay?’ Nico asks.

‘Uh huh,’ I nod.

‘Can I…’ He pulls me gently into his chest, smoothing my hair back and away from my face, before his palm traces a slow line down my spine.

I know I should be embarrassed about how easily I melt into him, but I can’t help it.

‘So this is good then?’ Nico asks, and I can feel his voice rumble in his chest.

‘Yes,’ I affirm, the word a little too close to a sigh.

‘What comes next?’

I can tell by the way he’s asking that he’s giving me the opportunity to step back, but I’m so wrapped up in him – literally – that I can’t bring myself to do it.

‘Well, you could kiss me on the cheek,’ I suggest, trying to sound confident.

I move, tipping my face up towards him. ‘Like this.’ I brush my lips against his cheekbone, and his arm tightens for a second, his fingers flexing against my hip.

‘Like that,’ he murmurs. ‘Got it.’

‘Or…’ I turn slightly, and my hands coast up until I’m cradling his face, the rasp of his stubble against my fingers like the sweeping friction of a match being struck, sending ripples of heat travelling through my body. When he looks down at me, his eyes are hooded.

‘If we’re trying to be really convincing, you might have to kiss me,’ I whisper. ‘Like you mean it.’

Before I can overthink it I press my mouth to his. It’s the lightest touch, barely there, but my body goes wild. I can taste him. My heart is pounding. My lips press firmer and part, only a little, just enough to exhale, enough for a gentle scrape of my teeth against his bottom lip. I squirm closer to him, sliding against his thigh.