Page 22 of Do It With Me

9

ELLORA

By the time we reached the end of the block, I’d stopped pretending I wasn’t enjoying myself. Holden was still too confident and too handsome for anyone’s good, but he was also funny, thoughtful, and not nearly as much of a jerk as I’d pegged him for that first night in class.

He walked beside me with his hands in his pockets, glancing at me with a strange half-smile on his lips. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “What?”

“You surprised me tonight.”

“Oh yeah? How?” I asked, arching a brow. “Was it because I didn’t spill anything on myself?”

He chuckled. “That helped. But I mean that you’re interesting. You’re not what I expected.”

“Let me guess. You thought I was going to show up in another wrinkled T-shirt and beg for extra credit.”

“I didn’t think you’d need extra credit.” His voice dropped slightly, suddenly a low timbre that made its way straight to my pulse. “I just assumed you’d be a little less…” He trailed off, clearly searching for a word.

“Less what?” I prompted.

“Dangerous,” he said finally.

I laughed. “Dangerous? I’m the least dangerous person you’ve ever met. I own a thrift store. I drive a hatchback and I consider a night in with a book on my couch a huge treat.”

“Exactly,” I replied easily. “It’s disarming.”

I rolled my eyes. “You have a weird definition of danger, Professor.”

“Holden,” he corrected softly.

That one word, just the fact that he was telling me to call him by his first name, settled between us like static. My Uber notification pinged, but I didn’t look at it. I couldn’t, not when he was shifting a little closer to me, a lock of that sandy hair falling across his forehead and his breath misting in the cold air between us.

“You know, if we’re going to pull off this whole fake-dating thing, we should probably work on our chemistry,” he said.

I gave him a teasing smile, but on the inside, my heart was suddenly galloping, my mouth bone dry, and my eyes locked on his like they’d been crazy-glued there. “You think our chemistry needs work?”

“Actually, I think it’s perfect, but I wouldn’t mind running a test.”

I opened my mouth to reply, desperately searching for something to say, something witty or smart, but my vocabulary got tangled up in my brain. He leaned in, slow enough for me to stop him if I wanted to.

I didn’t.

Around us, the city noise seemed to dim. The streetlights blurred as he brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear, and then his lips met mine. It wasn’t polite or tentative. In fact, it was the kind of kiss that felt like an answer to a question neither of us had asked, hot and unhurried at the same time, leaving my knees weak and my body begging for more.

When he finally drew back, his forehead rested against mine for a heartbeat. Both of us breathed hard. The air between us had turned electric. My phone buzzed again.

My Uber.

I stepped back, trying to remember how to form actual words. “I, um, well, I guess that was your test.”

He smiled, those lips curving in a way that was both slow and devastating. “I’d say we passed.”

A car pulled up beside us. I was still reeling as I half-stumbled toward it, climbed in, and fell back against the seat. Holden shut the door behind me. He stood on the sidewalk as we pulled away, watching me like he was suddenly wondering what the hell he’d just done.

Frankly, I didn’t have the faintest idea either, but I already knew that it had been the kind of insanity I would willingly sign up for. Time and time again.

The next morning when I strode into the bakery under my shop for breakfast, I was running on three hours’ sleep and one very confusing memory of a kiss I couldn’t stop replaying. Josie was behind the counter, flour dusting her hair and trays of croissants cooling on the rack.

The air smelled like butter and heaven, and she grinned at me as soon as I walked in. “Well, good morning, sunshine. You look like you got hit by a pastry truck.”