not have been as mind-blowing to Kai as it was for me. I’ve never kissed a man before, and to be fair, I didn’t think the basics would be that different from kissing a woman, but maybe I’m wrong? Or maybe I’m just a bad kisser?
“We should go home,” Kai says, and I’m too preoccupied to put up an argument. Maybe it’s better this way. I obviously need to recuperate and reassess. And maybe practice my technique on my hand. Or on… a mango or some other fruit that is easy to carve into something resembling a pair of lips.
Or maybe something less weird. I’m going to figure it out.
Because throughout this all clusterfuck of an aftermath, one thing is still clear in my head.
I want to kiss Kai again.
17
Kai
I fucked up.
I really fucked up.
I’ve done that plenty of times in my life, of course, but this one takes the cake.
It’s the fuck-up of the decade.
Scratch that. It’s the fuck-up of the century.
The worst thing is, I can’t stop thinking about it. The kiss. It’s scorched in my brain, and it won’t leave me alone.
Luckily, I’ve had a few days to consider my next move while Gray was occupied with all the extra tasks that have been piled on his shoulders at work.
And I’ve been using the time wisely. In between freak-outs and daydreaming about feeling Gray’s lips on mine again, I came up with a solution.
The plan I concocted is simple and elegant: we ignore what happened on Saturday. It’s practically foolproof, which is the key to the success of said plan, since judging by my latest undertakings, I cannot be trusted with a more sophisticated approach to damage control. Talking about what happened is out of the question.
I take one last deep breath and push the front door open. Commence operation Everything Is Normal.
I place my shoes on the rack. Normally.
I take off my jacket. Normally.
I go to the kitchen, where I hear movement. Normally.
I stop in the doorway and fight off a bolt of desire when I see Gray in his sweatpants and T-shirt, and that, too, I do very normally.
“Hi,” I croak.
Gray looks up and smiles when he sees me.
“Hey.” He pulls the normal off way better than I do.
“How was your day?” he asks.
“Normal,” I say quickly, which is a normal answer that shows that everything is normal.
I need serious help.
“Go get changed,” Gray says. “Dinner will be ready in ten.”
I escape the kitchen like the hounds of hell are nipping at my heels. I lean against my bedroom door and close my eyes. This is going to be even more difficult than I predicted earlier. Now that I’ve kissed Gray and felt his body against mine, it’s impossible to look at him without reliving those stolen moments in my mind.
God damnit, even the way he looked in his sweatpants when I walked into the kitchen practically made me drool.
Sweatpants that aren’t even some kind of a beacon of sexiness! Come on, brain. Stop sabotaging and work with me here.
On the bright side, it seems Gray has come to the same conclusion that ignoring Saturday is the best tactic, so that makes my life a hell of a lot easier.
I use up all the ten minutes Gray has allotted me. Changing my clothes only takes about two minutes, and the rest of the time I use to talk myself up. Or down. I glare at my lap. Should have worn jeans.
“Thanks for making dinner,” I say once I’m back in the kitchen.
He smiles at me. “No problem.”
Judging by the jumpy, jittery feeling somewhere around my solar plexus, you’d think Gray had said something dirty.
I distract myself with setting the table, which is something that feels unbearably domestic and intimate, even though we’ve done this exact thing countless of times before. To make sure my thoughts stay in the right path, I make the whole endeavor as noisy as possible, clanking plates and glasses together like I’m about to start the noisiest toast known to mankind.
“What are you making?” I ask.
“Fish tacos.”
“My favorite.”
He flashes me another smile. “I know.”
“What’s the occasion?”
“We’re celebrating. I’m done with the extra contracts Con sent my way at work, and when he tried to throw more overtime my way today, I said no.” The words rush out, and Gray beams at me, looking extremely proud of himself.
“Good for you.” I’m thoroughly impressed. I thought I’d never see the day Gray would say no to his brother. “What are you going to