My stomach tightens.
“Christine.” My voice comes out in a rasp. I suddenly want to put as much distance between us as possible. She’s screwing with my thoughts.
She eventually gives me the distance I so desperately need, but there’s a mischievous look in her eyes that I don’t quite like.
“I talked to Aunt Mel,” she starts. I raise an eyebrow. “After you left. She finally told me the reason she hates me so much. Well, she said she never hated me, but I don’t believe her. It’s a funny story, actually.”
Oh, hell. Why do I have a feeling I’m about to be fucked over?
I clear my throat. “What did she say?”
“Just listen, don’t say anything. Okay?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No, I know where this is going and it’s a really bad idea, Christine.”
“Why is it a bad idea?” Her eyes are narrowed in a glare.
She’s getting angry. It’s good. I understand angry Christine better.
“Because of Noah. We owe it to him to be the best co-parents, and that means not making things more complicated than they should be,” I tell her.
Christine laughs. It’s a loud, almost hysterical laugh. She gets to her feet and I follow suit. She jabs her finger into my chest.
“You think you’re so smart, responsible, mature. Here’s the thing, Mikey. I’m Noah’s mother. Do you really think I would willingly enter a situation that I know would cause him harm?”
Oh, shit. I had better backtrack.
“Christine, come on. That’s not what I meant. You’re being a little oversensitive right now—”
“Oversensitive?” she screeches.
Great, I made it worse. It’s been a while since I had to handle any upset women, or any women, really. Which is why I’m fucking this conversation up so badly.
“That’s not what I meant.”
She barely lets me speak before powering on.
“This is the problem with men like you. You’re all so misogynistic. When women voice their complaints, they’re overreacting. I’m trying to be the emotionally mature one here and talk to you, but you’re being a pompous ass. Is it so bad to want more? To want something better for us? For Noah? But no, you refuse to see past your own—”
I cut her off with the only thing I can think of. Christine gasps as I press my lips to hers.
I mean for it to be a quick peck, nothing more. But once I’ve had a taste of her lips, there’s no going back. I wrap my hands around her waist and pull her closer. Christine’s as still as a statue in my arms, but I groan and pry her lips apart with mine.
“Christine, kiss me.” My voice carries a plea. I’m desperate to feel her lips moving with mine.
Finally, she gives me what I need. Her hands slide up to my hair and she moans into my mouth. She angles her head to give me better access, and I waste no time letting my tongue thrust between her lips. She tastes just as good as I knew she would, like strawberries and cinnamon. It’s addicting.
I know without a doubt that I’m fucking ruined.
Just before the kiss turns more rough and carnal, Christine pulls away.
There’s surprise in her expression, and something else. Hunger.
I’m sure the same look must be mirrored on my own face. The only thing I can think about right now as I stare at her is that I’m really glad Noah’s spending the night with his grandparents.
CHAPTER18
CHRISTINE