Chapter 4 #2
"I don't know what this is." The admission slips out. I see something vulnerable flicker across her face. "I mean, a few hours ago you were just... my old friend Lucas. The guy I used to do calculus homework with. And now you're..."
"Now I'm what?"
She looks at me. I can see her pulse fluttering at the base of her throat. Her lips part slightly.
"Now you're dangerous," she whispers.
The word sends electricity shooting through my veins. Dangerous. She thinks I'm dangerous. "Am I?"
Before I can second-guess myself, I reach over and brush a strand of hair behind her ear. The contact is brief. Innocent. But her sharp intake of breath tells me she feels it too. That spark that's been building between us all evening.
"You're the one who's dangerous, Maya Bennett," I say quietly. Meaning every word. "You always were."
I watch the compliment hit her. See the way her cheeks flush pink. There's something in her expression now, like she's seeing me for the first time since she walked back into my life.
"You can't just say things like that," she murmurs. Fidgeting with the hem of my t-shirt. The movement draws my attention to her hands. To the way the oversized fabric bunches around her curves.
"Why not?"
"Because..." She struggles for words. I find myself leaning closer. Drawn by her obvious flustered state. "Because it makes me want to do something stupid."
"Such as?" I shift closer on the couch.
"Such as forgetting that this is complicated and I'm a disaster and you're being way too nice to someone who showed up at your bar like a drowned rat."
The self-deprecation in her voice makes something twist in my chest. "You're not a disaster."
"Evidence suggests otherwise."
"Evidence suggests you've had a shitty day. There's a difference." I let my hand move to rest on the couch between us. Fingers almost touching hers. "Besides, I happen to like drowned rats."
That makes her laugh. Her whole face lights up. "Wow. You really know how to make a girl feel special."
"Is that what I'm doing? Making you feel special?"
The question comes out loaded, but I don't take it back. Because sitting here with her in my space, with nothing but candlelight and storm sounds between us, I want to know. I want to know if she feels even a fraction of what's building in my chest.
"Maybe," she admits quietly.
I watch her eyes drop to my lips for just a moment before meeting mine again. The hunger I see there makes heat unfurl in my stomach.
I realize we've been leaning closer without either of us meaning to.
"I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to give me an honest answer."
She nods. I watch her throat work as she swallows.
"Are you feeling this too? This..." I gesture at the charged space between us. "Whatever this is?"
I see her consider lying. See her weighing options. Maybe thinking about all the reasons this is complicated. But then she looks into my eyes. Something in her expression cracks open.
"Yeah," she whispers. "I'm feeling it."
Relief floods through me. I move my hand that final inch to cover hers.
"Good," I say quietly. "Because I've been going crazy trying to figure out if I was imagining it."
"You're not imagining it." She turns her hand palm up beneath mine. Our fingers tangle together. "But Lucas... I don't know what this means. I don't know what I'm doing."
The vulnerability in her voice makes me want to pull her against me. To tell her it doesn't matter. That we can figure it out as we go. Instead, I lean closer. Until I can feel her breath against my cheek.
"That's okay. We don't have to figure it all out tonight."
"No?"
"No." I bring my free hand up to cup her face. Brushing my thumb across her cheek. Her skin is impossibly soft. She leans into my touch. "Tonight we can just... see what happens."
Her eyes flutter closed. When they open again, she's so close I can count her eyelashes. Close enough that I could close the distance...
"This is probably a bad idea," she whispers.
"Probably." I trace the line of her jaw with my thumb. Fighting that urge to close the distance between us right now. "But I'm having trouble caring about that."
The space between us disappears by degrees. Our foreheads touch, then our noses. Until we're sharing the same breath and all I can see are her eyes. Dark with want in the flickering light.
"Maya," I breathe against her lips.
And then thunder crashes overhead. So violent and sudden that we both jump.
The thunder fades. Leaving us in charged silence. I'm about to lean in again when another sound cuts through the moment—a sharp crack from somewhere outside. Followed by what sounds like a tree branch hitting the building.
Maya startles. "What was that?"
"Just the storm," I murmur. But I can see the spell breaking. Reality creeping back into her expression. "Maya—"
"I should check the window." She starts to pull back. I feel the loss of her warmth. "Make sure that guy isn't still out there."
"Maya, don't—"
But she's already moving. Untangling herself from the couch with quick, nervous energy. The oversized sweatpants catch under her feet as she stands. I see what's going to happen a split second before it does.
"Careful—"
Her foot slips on the fabric pooled around her ankles. She stumbles forward. Arms windmilling as she tries to catch her balance. Instinct takes over. I lunge forward to catch her. My hands grab for whatever I can reach.
Time slows down as we collide. My arms wrap around her waist just as her hands land on my shoulders. But our momentum carries us both down. I twist as we fall. Try to take the impact. We land hard on the area rug with her sprawled across my chest.
For a moment, neither of us moves. The only sounds are our ragged breaths and the rain still hammering against the windows.
Her hair has fallen like a curtain around us.
Blocking out everything but her face inches from mine.
Her body is warm and soft against me. Every curve pressed against my chest and legs in a way that makes my brain short-circuit and my cock twinge.
"Are you okay?" I manage. My voice rough.
She nods, but she doesn't move to get up. Her hands are still braced on my shoulders. I can feel the rapid flutter of her pulse where her wrist rests against my chest.
"Lucas." My name is barely a breath on her lips. When I look into her eyes, I see the same want there that's been eating me alive all evening.
"Yeah?"
"We're in trouble, aren't we?"
I reach up to brush a strand of hair away from her face. My fingers linger against her cheek. She's right. We're in deep, dangerous trouble. The kind that changes everything and leaves no safe way out.
But lying here with Maya Bennett in my arms, her body warm and willing against mine, I can't bring myself to care.
"The worst kind," I agree quietly.
She shifts slightly. The movement sends heat cascading through me. Her eyes flutter closed again for a moment. Clearly fighting the same battle I am.
"We should..." she whispers. The words trail off.
"We should what?"
Her eyes open. "We should get up."
The smart thing to do would be to agree. To help her up. Maybe make some coffee and lay off the wine. Talk about safe, neutral topics until the storm passes and we can pretend this never happened.
But neither of us moves.
"We should," I echo. My thumb traces along her jawline again. "But I don't want to."
"Neither do I."