Page 59 of Long Story Short

Before I have the chance to decide, Tyson pulls open the door.

I know it’s only been a matter of hours since I last saw him, but it still doesn’t change the fact that my breath catches when he takes a step through the doorway and brings his body closer to mine.

He wears a cream button-up shirt that hugs his body perfectly. I let my gaze wander to where he’s got the sleeves rolled up, showing off his tan and toned forearms.

Tyson clears his throat, the sound directing my gaze to meet his once again. Our eyes meet, and I smile.

He does the same, his lips stretching across his perfect teeth in a way that makes my pulse spike.

“Hi.” The single word is said low and with a raspiness to it that has my stomach clenching. Who knew a “hi” could be so damn sexy?

“Hi,” I whisper back, my heart beginning to hammer against my chest in anticipation of what the night will bring.

THIRTY-ONE

TYSON

Josie’s beauty steals the air from my lungs.

I stay standing in the doorway, just staring at her, words completely failing me.

She’s stunning.

Something tightens in my chest. The feeling is sharp, something that was unfamiliar until I met her. I know I should say something—anything, really—but words fail me.

The hem of Josie’s dress brushes high on her thighs. The gauzy material softly shifts with every one of her small movements. I know my gaze lingers longer than it should where the cream fabric meets her tan thighs. I can’t help it. It’s taking everything in me to force my gaze upward.

My gaze continues to travel up, stalling for a moment on where I can see two peaked nipples through the fabric. I blink, wondering if I’m just imagining things. I pull my stare from the spot before I can find out if the outline of her nipples was real or in my imagination.

I meet her hazel gaze, finding her focus solely on me. She watches me closely, her shiny, glossed lips parted slightly.

“Come in?” I manage to get out. My voice comes out rougher than I intend it to, but I’m lucky I’m able to get words out at all around her right now.

Josie nods, the small movement sending a few loose curls to slip into her eyes. She’s done something different with her hair this evening. She’s carefully styled it into soft waves. The blonde strands catch the light and dance along her collarbones with every movement she makes.

I press my palm against the door and take a step back to let her in. As she passes, her shoulder brushes against my chest as she walks into my entryway.

It’s barely a touch.

If it were anyone else, it wouldn’t do anything.

But with her, the brief contact lingers in a way that, for a moment, I find it hard to breathe. Even worse, I find it incredibly hard not to reach for her to prolong the touch.

I step inside and close the door behind us—the movement maybe a little too quick—as I shove my hands into my pockets in an attempt to keep control of myself.

It doesn’t help. I still want to touch her.

I can’t help it. The memories from this morning are still fresh in my mind.

I can’t forget her mouth against mine. The way she sounded, the way she felt—how she tasted. The memory of the kiss hits harder than it should, and all I can think about is doing it again.

Josie turns to face me, a soft, almost hesitant smile on her lips.

My gaze drops to her mouth before I can think better of it.

Am I allowed to kiss her? Would she let me?

I want to taste the lip gloss from her lips. Badly.