Page 62 of Long Story Short

There’s no hesitation in his voice. And for some reason, I believe him. A soft laugh slips out of me, more from nerves than anything else.

“Well, Scarlett pointed something out to me today that really got me thinking.”

He lifts his wine glass, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “And what was that?”

“Up until now, my taste in men has been horrible.”

He chokes slightly on his drink, setting the glass back down on the counter with a quiet clink. “We’ve talked about this,” he begins, recovering quickly. “Mouse and his judge of character.” He winks, and I shake my head, smiling despite myself.

“Yeah, well, her pointing it out got me thinking more about it.” I pause, tracing the rim of my own wine glass with my finger. “I realized that every man I’ve been with before was boring, because I thought I liked boring.”

Tyson goes still.

His lips press together as he stares at me. He leans forward slightly as his pointer finger runs over his top lip, his attention completely locked on me.

The shift makes my pulse spike.

I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t, so I keep going. “I don’t really want to unpack all the reasons I thought I liked boring,” I continue, my voice softer now. “But I will admit, my sex life has always been kind of—” I hesitate for a moment as heat rushes to my face. “—boring too.”

Another choking sound escapes him, except this one’s a little quieter. It’s like he wasn’t expecting me to go there. “Okay,” he says slowly.

I can feel my heart pounding against my chest, but I don’t stop. If I do, I’ll lose the courage to say what I need to say, and I don’t want that to happen.

“I don’t want boring anymore.” My voice steadies as I meet his gaze. “From the moment I met you, nothing has ever felt boring. Not one second of it.”

His expression changes into something darker, more focused.

“Even kissing you made me feel things,” I begin to admit, my voice dropping, “that were new.”

For a second, neither of us says a thing. Neither of us moves.

Then, suddenly…his hand grips the underside of my stool, and he yanks me toward him.

I let out a soft gasp as the distance between us completely disappears. My knees brush his thighs as he shifts. His stance opens, the position making it so I fit between his muscular thighs like I belong there.

The air between us changes instantly. It’s charged, making my entire body feel like it’s on fire with anticipation.

“You have no idea how much I like hearing that,” he rasps. His eyes drop to my lips, lingering there just long enough to make my breath hitch and my heart feel like it’s going to leap out of my throat.

My tongue darts out, barely grazing my bottom lip before I can stop myself. “I didn’t realize how much my writing was tied to my personal life,” I begin, my voice quieter now. “But I’ve never been this excited to tell a love story. I’ve never felt this confident in the connection between two characters…the way I am now.” I hold his gaze as my pulse continues to race because of the intensity in the way he looks at me. “That’s because of you.”

Something soft flickers in his blue gaze, almost hidden behind his intense expression. He lifts his hand, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. His fingers linger against my skin a second longer than necessary, and I welcome the touch. I wish he’d touch me more.

“It’s not because of me,” he murmurs. “It’s you. It’s because of you.”

I roll my eyes, even as warmth spreads through my chest at his words. He returns to touching me again, and I can’t help but lean into it as his thumb traces lightly over my cheekbone. Something about the gentle feeling grounds me.

“You’ve not been shy about bragging about being my inspiration,” I point out.

A low rumble of a laugh leaves his chest. The sound is becoming familiar—it’s deep and warm—sending shivers down my spine.

“I guess I’ll take the credit for inspiring you,” he admits, his gaze still locked on mine. “But you’re the one bringing life to these characters. To their story. Make sure to give yourself credit for that, Josie.”

My eyes drift over his face, taking him in. He looks at me like I’m something worth paying attention to. Like I matter. In a way no man has ever looked at me before.

And it hits me at once.

Although it’s new, I don’t know if I can call this thing between us just attraction anymore. It’s quickly becoming something deeper. Something that’s starting to take hold of me before I can even understand it. It’s both exhilarating and terrifying. I don’t know what to do about it. If he can make me feel things like this so early on, what happens to my heart if I decide to spend all summer with him?