Page 14 of On the Line

“You don’t get that in Charlotte?”

“Not even close.”

He sits down beside me on the bench, close enough that our shoulders touch.

“Thank you,” I say.

“For what?”

“All of it. The whole weekend.”

“You mean my exceptional acting.”

“Yes, Liam. Your Oscar-worthy performance.”

“I’ve worked very hard.”

“I can tell.” But his smile fades a little, so I ask, “What?”

“Has it been bad? Being stuck here with me?”

“No.” It comes out fast. “It’s been kind of great, actually.”

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

I look over, and he’s already looking at me. There’s no Nora out here and no camera, nobody to put on a show for. I know exactly what’s about to happen, and I know I could stop it, and I don’t.

He touches my face. “Delaney.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you.”

“Nobody’s watching,” I say.

“I know.”

That’s all I need to hear. I lean in and meet him halfway.

There’s no audience this time and no excuse. His hand slides into my hair, and I move closer and kiss him harder, and he makes a low sound against my mouth that goes right through me.

When he pulls back, we’re both breathing hard.

“Still okay?”

“Yes.”

His thumb strokes my cheek. “Want me to take you back?”

I know what he’s really asking. I shake my head. “No.”

His eyes go dark. “Good.”

The next kiss is hotter and a lot messier. My hands find their way under his T-shirt to warm skin and a stomach that’s all muscle, and he groans when I drag my nails lightly across it.

“Jesus, Delaney.”

I smile against his mouth. “Problem?”