Page 28 of Back for Seconds

Had I said too much? Had I just unknowingly unraveled the world’s largest red flag? She pushed a few chocolate crumbs into a pile, smashing them with her fork. Then she whispered: “I wonder if that’s how I always felt. But I just wouldn’t…let myself.” She looked up at me. “He cheated on me with a mutual friend. N-not physically. Just emotionally. Like text messages and…”

I shook my head, my throat constricting. Fuck. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“I keep telling myself that, but it doesn’t stick.”

“Believe it, ok? You did not deserve that.”

She sipped her wine, abruptly straightening her back. For a moment, I was afraid she might run out. “Thank you for dinner. I mean it. Everything has been totally…completely perfect.”

“Hey, if there’s something else you wanna say”—I shrugged—“just say it.”

“I…I know I can be a little pushy with my opinions. I’m used to being the smart one, yes. But I’m also perfectly capable of admitting when I’m wrong, and…” She drew in a breath. “This is totally a date.”

I smirked. “It is. It’s been a date the entire time.”

She bit her lower lip, hopping off her stool and rounding the island. “Come on, let’s tackle these dishes.”

I held an arm out to block her path to the sink. “Seriously, don’t worry about it—”

“Joey, come on.” She was inches from me, the sweet, musky smell of hers filling my nostrils. Her jeans clung to the dramatic curve of her waist and the flare of her stomach and hips. Everything about her felt like an invitation, and I felt my body curving into her. I stood slowly. “This was so much work,” she said. “Let me do something to help you.”

“June,” I said. I loved the way her name felt on my lips; I loved that it reminded me of warmer weather and longer days.

She looked up at me through her lashes. “Joey.”

She’d twisted her hair back away from her face into a loose bun at the base of her neck, exposing the hollow of her throat and the flush that crept up from her cleavage and hung like a necklace around her pale neck. A brown mole punctuated the swell of her left breast. I wanted to reach out, swipe my thumb over it, feel how soft her skin was. My breath came in swift, ragged pulls.

I hadn’t been this close to someone new since I was a teenager. I was out of my depths, maybe losing my mind, but she was unlike anyone I’d ever seen before. I reached out and brushed a loose hair away from her face, her eyes fluttering shut as my fingertips grazed her cheek.

This felt like an invitation.

So, I didn’t stop. Slowly, I traced a ghostly soft path over the apples of her cheeks, over the fullness of her bottom lip, taking in every inch of her features. Her long lashes, the round tip of her nose. As my thumb glanced the curve of her bottom lip, her breath snagged. Something like a gasp. Her eyes stayed shut, but her body moved toward mine, one foot crossing over the other, her neck tilting back in anticipation.

June.

“Is this ok?” I asked, my voice little more than a hoarse whisper.

She didn’t speak. Instead, she just pressed her lips together and made another one of her sounds—a noise like my touch was as good as our entire meal.

“I…” I cleared my throat. “I haven’t kissed someone new in a long time.”

Suddenly her eyes flew open. Dark and wide. Focused entirely on me. “Me either.”

“Ok.” I swallowed against the pulse in my throat. I slipped my fingers over her jaw, cupping her face. Her eyes fell shut again as her fingers curled around my wrist.

“I believe in us.”

A laugh bubbled out of me. “Me too.”

As slowly as I could manage, as my heart hammered against my rib cage, I closed the space between us and brought my mouth down to meet her.

Her lips were petal-soft and sweet like apple cider, like the first taste of raspberry meringue. I felt a hunger grow in my chest as she opened her mouth to me, her tongue sweeping against my bottom lip. Was it always meant to be like this?

Her hands rested flat against my chest, over my hammering heart. I could feel her fingers trembling. I stroked the soft angle of her jaw with my thumb, a quiet encouragement. She slipped her palms up over my shoulders, wrapping her arms around my neck and tilting her body into me. I tightened my hold, a raw sound forming my throat. Or maybe in hers.

An urgency was building in me, and I tilted her mouth open to me, deepening our kiss. Her teeth closed around my bottom lip, and she pulled gently.

My fingers flexed instinctively as my hands traveled down over her neck, then slipped up into her hair. I needed her, more of her. That need grew in my chest, a crescendo that pressed down against my stomach, through my thighs and into my knees. She smelled like almonds and jasmine; she tasted like chocolate cake and sweet wine and something else—completely unplaceable and exceptionally delicious.