Juliet’s lips are poison, and I’m a goner. I know it’s going to kill me, but Ican’t get enough of her touch, of her taste.
I’m lost in her kiss, lost in the feel of her hands tugging at my hair. If we stay like this forever, she can’t leave me. Won’t make up an excuse to end us before we can really begin.
“What are the lights doing—oh!”
I jump back from Juliet and face the doorway that my mother just walked through.
“Don’t mind me.” Mom’s face turns bright red, and she bolts out of the room.
I’m tempted to pick up where we left off, but Juliet has placed herself on the opposite side of the room.
How did she move so fast?
I rub my chin and walk slowly toward her. Are we going to talk about that amazing kiss? And more importantly, are we going to do it again?
I study her face, waiting for her to look up at me and say something, anything really. I’m a pretty confident guy, but she’s brushing me off like it was nothing more than a quick peck she’d give her grandma.
“So, you built all of this but didn’t take it with you when you moved out?”
I watch her lips purse, trying to fight the urge to capture them again. I shake my head.
“Yeah,” I rub my arm. “I didn’t want to damage the wood by moving it.” I look around the familiar room. This stuff belongs here in the past, to holdmy memories. Or until my mom decides to turn this into a gym.
It’s also insanely heavy. I broke my foot getting the frame up here with my dad.
Juliet absently opens a drawer in the dresser, then shuts it. “Seems like a shame to leave it here without enjoying it.”
I’m enjoying watching her. I really enjoyed pressing her up against the built-ins to kiss her, so I’d say it’s served its purpose.
“Maybe I’ll move it someday.” When I have a place to move it to, or someone to enjoyit with.
I wait for her to speak, but she continues her intense study of the wood grains.
I swallow. There’s been a deadline hanging over my head like a guillotine since our first date, but now I feel it dropping. Inch by inch, getting closer to my skin. The wait is more painful than not knowing if she’s going to drop the blade or not.
That kiss we shared turned my whole world on its head. Can she really, after all this, still walk away?
How do I get her to believe in love? In us?
“Is your arm okay?” Juliet asks.
My arm? I glance down. Crap. It’s so red it’s almost bleeding. I shove my hands in my pockets. It’s fine. Everything is fine.
“Just a nervous habit,” I say.
“I have one of those.” She smiles.
I’ve noticed. “I love the way you play with your hair.”
She freezes at the word love.
“So that view, huh?” She moves to the window and looks out at what I know to be a very dismal view of the top of the garage. If she likes that, she should wait until someone leaves the house.
Juliet places a hand on the windowsill. She must be seeing something I never did. She’s the picture of romance and love.
Everything she’s afraid of.
I can hear Sean’s voice in my head, ready to laugh at me for losing, or winning, some stupid bet. But this stopped being about the bet a long time ago. Maybe it never was. Maybe I was just using it as my excuse to go after something I’ve always wanted but never knew how to do until now.
