10. Griffin
GRIFFIN
There’s fire in Ember’s eyes, and I fucking love it.
She jabs a finger in the center of my chest. “Not for the first time today, I have to ask: what is wrong with you?”
Unable to contain my grin, I raise my hands to show her I’m not guilty. “What are you talking about?”
“You were way out of line. Again.”
“You should be thanking me. You don’t want to go out with that guy.”
She’s stopped poking me, but now her fists are balled at her sides and her cheeks are turning a pretty pink. “How could you possibly know whether or not I want to go out with someone?”
“C’mon. It was written all over your face.” To illustrate my point, I trace a finger across her brow, and—shit, touching her is a mistake, but it’s the best mistake I’ve ever made.
Her lips were already parted, no doubt ready to hurl more accusations, but no words come out. Instead, she stands there, softening under my touch, her big eyes locked on mine.
We’re so close, I can see the flecks of grey and pale blue in her irises, and the way they darken at the edges. The pulse point on her neck is visible, and it’s one of the spots I want to touch next.
Finally, she speaks in a breathy tone. “What are you doing?”
I’m still touching her, because of course I fucking am. But then Zeb reappears from the back hall. Shit! I forgot he was still here.
Pasting a harmless grin on my face, I use my thumb to smooth invisible creases from the corners of her eyes. “I’m just making sure you don’t get wrinkles from frowning all the time.”
The mood broken, she swats my hand away and quickly puts far too much distance between me and her creamy skin.