Page 66 of Flashback for the Forward

“Do you want a kiss?” When I remained silent, he said, “Bridget, I need you to answer me.”

Heaving a sigh, I admitted, “Maybe.”

“Maybe,” he repeated. “Maybe doesn’t count as consent.”

My eyes snapped up, and I all but stopped breathing when I saw the heat in his. It burned so hot in those sapphire depths that, suddenly, I was at risk of overheating.

“C-consent?” I stammered.

A hum vibrated through his chest. “Mm-hmm. I won’t do a damn thing without it.”

Peering at him through my lashes, I whispered, “Yes, I want a kiss.”

“Now, was that so hard?” His voice came out rough, like it had been dragged over gravel.

Time slowed down in anticipation of the moment when his lips met mine.

One heartbeat passed.

Then another.

And just when I could feel his ragged exhales fanning my face, he shifted to press an achingly sweet kiss to the center of my forehead.

He pulled away, and it took a minute for me to regain my bearings.

Cole was going out of his way to be a perfect gentleman, and while I could admit that was admirable, I wanted more than what he’d given me.

I pushed my lower lip out in a pout. “Not the kind of kiss I was hoping for.”

“Bridget.” My name was uttered with such reverence as he stared down at me that my heart clenched. “There’s no need to rush this.”

Frustrated with the situation, I huffed, “I’m tired of you treating me like I’m made of glass.”

A silent war played out behind his blue eyes as he fought with himself over what to do.

With a nod, he rasped, “All right.”

My heart thrashed against my ribcage as he moved in. This time, when our mouths were only a breath apart, he didn’t change course. My whole body melted as his lips brushed against mine. Softly at first, then with more pressure before his tongue traced the seam and I opened for him.

His guttural groan made my toes curl inside my heels, and I reached up to thread my fingers through his hair as the kiss grew deeper. We moved in sync, like this was a dance we’d done a thousand times before—which, technically, we had—and it felt so fucking right.

An almost forgotten sensation of heat pooled low in my belly, and I couldn’t get close enough. Even an inch of space separating me from Cole was too much.

But sooner than I wanted, we broke apart, both of us panting as we caught our breaths.

Forehead pressed to mine, Cole said, “Better than I remembered.”

My only reply was a contented hum as I clung to him.

Fingers grazed my cheek as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear before retreating, a soft smile on his kiss-swollen lips. “Goodnight, Bridget.”

I pressed a palm over my heaving chest, the wall at my back the only thing keeping me upright on knees gone weak. “Night.”

Best date night ever.

As I lay in bed, my lips still tingled from Cole’s kiss. In the darkness, sleep eluded me.

He was on the other side of my closed door—so close, yet so far away.