She laughs again, and I find myself ready to offer up my firstborn if it means I can keep hearing that sound.
Leaning back beside me, Ellie nudges my elbow with hers. “You really think so?”
“You’re walking around Manhattan with a sock between your legs—that’s dedication. And I don’t know many people who could pull off a gender bend in the finance industry,andmake friends doing it, yet you seem to have half the office eating out of your hand.”
“My filthy man-mitt, you mean.” Ellie turns on her side to face me, her head propped on her hand as she smiles. “I can’t believe I’m sitting here feeling proud about how manly I am.”
My gaze sweeps her face, taking in the delicate arch of her brows, the perfect slope of her nose, the curve of her lush, full lips.
Manly? Two days into our dude lessons, and she gets more beautiful every time I look at her. How on earth am I supposed to keep pretending she’s not getting under my skin, drowning my senses, invading my every thought?
Fuck it. No more pretending. I want to kiss her. Ineedto kiss her, no matter how many people surround us, no matter how many warning bells clang in my head.
“Can I kiss you, Ellie?” I ask, voice husky.
Her blue eyes wide, and alive with a spark that melts my hardened financial sector heart, Ellie nods. But before I can make a move, she leans close, eradicating the distance between us.
Instantly, I’m lost in the taste of her kiss. There’s no hesitation, only the intensity I’ve come to expect from her, mixed with a hunger that ignites things low in my body.
My hands slide into her hair, pulling her ponytail loose as she gasps into my mouth. I trace the outline of her lips with my tongue, teasing and tasting, breathing her in, committing every delicious second to memory.
The sounds of the city fade away—car horns and sirens and endless chatter—all of it muted until there’s nothing left but the rush of my blood and a single word flickering through my mind.
Perfect.
She’s perfect, exactly the way she is, no lessons required.
By the time we break for air, the sun has shifted to the other side of the park, and a cool breeze has chased off the less intrepid tourists.
Ellie holds my gaze, her lips red and swollen.
Neither of us says a word, and it truly is fuckingperfect.
Until the spell breaks.
I see it the moment it happens, the sudden shift in her eyes from content to concerned.
Ellie sits up on the blanket, and I follow, trying to gauge a situation that has me unmoored. I’m out of my element, not sure what the right call is, only knowing that I want her to be okay.
“I… I’m sorry, Jack,” she says, suddenly even more anxious than she was at her apartment yesterday. “This isn’t… We can’t…” She motions between us, nearly knocking over an open bottle of sparkling water, which I save before it topples into my lap. “This can’t happen.”
“It can’t,” I say, not sure if I’m agreeing or asking a question.
“Right. I mean…right?”
“Right.” I wave a hand, as if to erase the last fifteen minutes. As if I could.
“Ryan texted to see what I was up to today,” she says, “and I didn’t tell him we had plans. That’s weird, right? We’re friends.”
“We are,” I say carefully.
“And adults.”
“That, too.”
“So why am I so nervous to tell Ryan about this? Well, not this…” She blows out a breath through pursed lips. “I don’t meanthis, like we’re a thing. Which obviously we’re not. I just meant—”
“Your brother thinks you have a crush on me.”