Chapter 3 Kinsley
KINSLEY
“You—”
Royce practically shouts the word, and without thinking, I press my fingertips against his lips to keep him quiet. The touch is electric, and his eyes widen like he feels it too.
“No need to yell.”
He snorts but doesn’t push my hand away, and it’s only with great reluctance that I let my arm fall to the side.
“But you said…”
“I know what I said, Roy.”
“You know how crazy that sounds, right?” he demands, exasperation in his tone.
“Crazier than you switching coffees with me because I said I didn’t like mine?” I offer and preen as he opens his mouth before closing it and pressing his lips into a hard line. “That’s top-shelf boyfriend material, Roy.”
“I don’t know what came over me.”
“And I just don’t believe you,” I say, hooking my arm back through his as I pull him toward our building. “I think you knew exactly what you were doing.”
He doesn’t make it easy, but I manage to get him inside, though not without a raised eyebrow from Donald as we pass.
“Hi, Donald!”
“Evenin’, Miss Dane.”
“Will you let me know when the takeout gets here? I’ll come down and get it.”
“Sure thing, Miss Dane.” He nods at my companion. “Mr. Oakden.”
“Hey, Donald.”
Giving him one final wave, I shove Royce into the elevator and stab the button to our floor.
“You could’ve…” The words die on my tongue as I spin around and nearly crash into Royce. Instead of moving to the far side of the car, he’d stayed in the middle, his proximity making my belly flip in the best way.
He smells faintly of soap and coffee—no cologne, and I wonder if he even has any.
Not that he needs it.
My eyes drop to his lips, my heart beating faster when his tongue peeks out and wets them.
“Kinsley?” he rasps, forcing my gaze back to his.
“Yeah?”
“This is our floor.”
I laugh and grab his hand as I back out of the elevator, his face flushed and chest heaving.
“Wanna know a secret?” I goad as I continue backward down the hall.
“I don’t know if I can handle anything else today,” he says, and I don’t think he’s joking.
“I definitely would have let you kiss me.”
Royce groans, throwing his head back to look at the ceiling as I unlock my door and hold it open for him.
“This is the weirdest Thursday of my life.”
I think he honestly believes that, and whether it’s because of the tension in the elevator or just because I can, I push him back against the door the second it closes and swallow his grunt as I press my lips against his.
They’re soft but firm, yielding to me as I slip my tongue into his mouth, his messenger bag making it awkward and preventing me from fitting myself against him.
One hand still holds his coffee cup, and the other moves from my elbow to my lower back and then to my arm again like he’s not sure where he’s supposed to touch me.
“Better?” I murmur against his lips as I pull back enough to meet his gaze. His eyes are glassy and his lips are swollen, and I want to bite the bottom one to see if he likes it.
If he’d grunt and pull me back against him.
“What?”
“You said this is the weirdest Thursday of your life, and I want to know if kissing me made it better.”
His head falls with an audible thud against the door and he chuffs out a laugh. “It’s probably more weird.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Roy…”
“What? You kissed me.” He shrugs one shoulder and lets it drop. “I’m having a fangirl moment.”
Laughing, I spin and walk to the couch, dropping down onto the cream-colored sofa and patting the cushion next to me.
“Fangirl over here so we can order food. I’m starving.”
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”