Starting Point - Elle Aycart Page 0,16
sure this hair is really yours.”
He laughed and ran his fingers through it. “It’s getting too long.”
“Really?” The brush cut might be one inch long. Might.
He looked at her, his intense eyes smoldering. “Man, you are gorgeous.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It wasn’t that long and slipped precariously. “What happened to your curls, boss?”
She chugged down some beer. “Chemo fucked up my hair.” It required more than one hand to count all the frigging rounds of chemo she’d endured over the years. If you included all the other invasive treatments, she’d need both hands and a few toes. Her hair hadn’t been right since the first round. Now it grew however the fuck it wanted, and she was just happy it did grow.
“Straight hair suits you. The platinum-blonde color too. It gives you an edge.”
“I have an edge?” She had no clue.
“Absolutely. A hard edge to your softness. Fucking hot.”
“I still can’t believe you recognized me after all these years.”
“I told you, boss, I’d recognize you anywhere. You were my first kiss.”
“Really?” she asked, surprised. “A bad boy like you? You were light years ahead of me in experience.”
He nodded. “My first kiss that truly mattered.”
“So I wasn’t your first kiss,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Yes, you were,” he insisted. “A first kiss has to matter; otherwise it’s not a first kiss. It’s like fucking and making love. You can fuck all you want, but when you make love, you know the difference.”
She wasn’t sure if it was the beers or the crackling fire or his words, but boy was it getting hot in here.
“Everything with you was my first time. You were my first kiss, my first real friend. My first love.”
“What did you do before then?” she whispered.
“Survived. Do you know why I stayed put in NoName?”
She shook her head.
“Because you told me to.” He looked at the beer bottle, peeled the label. “I was so fucking nervous around you. Awestruck. It took me almost the whole summer to work up the courage to kiss you.” He lifted his gaze to her. “Didn’t you notice how clumsy I was?”
“No.” She chuckled. “I didn’t know much to realize if you were clumsy or not. You were the first boy I ever kissed. And I was in my bad boy phase—I was starstruck too.”
“I’ve learned a thing or two since that kiss. I’ve improved. I can show you.”
She threw her head back and laughed wholeheartedly. “Jeez, I can’t believe you said that.”
He grimaced, but his gaze was amused. “Neither can I. It didn’t sound that corny in my head. I—”
Whatever he was going to say was cut short. Megan leaned in close, their lips all but touching. She stopped, scrunched her nose, and shook her head. Before he had time to react, she moved away.
“What was that? Some sort of test?” he asked in mock outrage. “Because if so, that was unfair. I wasn’t ready.”
She couldn’t stifle her smile. “You always gave me butterflies just by being near me.”
“Gave? Do you mean no butterflies now?” He didn’t pause for an answer. “I can do much better. I’ll butterfly the living shit out of you.”
He tipped her chin up and nuzzled her nose, teasing. Then he brushed his mouth against hers and kissed her, deep and sweet, with the perfect blend of aggression and tenderness, until she was panting and light-headed and goo in his arms.
“Butterflies?” he whispered against her lips.
A whole swarm, but she kept that to herself. “Are you hitting on me, Bonehead?”
“What do you think? That butterfly crack was an affront to my very existence. I had to. And I remind you, you molested me first.”
She blushed. “I did. Sorry.”
“I was more than willing, sweetheart. Still am.”
He was flirting with her, which under normal circumstances would have freaked the hell out of her. Sex required explaining her scars and risking the guy freaking out himself. But not with Alec. He’d already seen her. He knew.
She looked down, then into his eyes. “You’re okay with… everything?”
“Well, there’s one thing I’m not too thrilled about,” he said, lifting her onto his lap.
She froze. There it came.
“You’re way too skinny,” he continued. “I’m going to fatten you up. Give me a week and I’ll get twenty pounds on you.”
He should have seen her two years ago. He definitely would have freaked.
His eyes lowered to her lips. His pupils were blown. He was definitely thinking about kissing her again.
She moved closer and touched her lips to his—slowly,