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I break eye contact, smoothing a hand over her shoulders then down her back, trying to settle us both. “Tell me.”
When she begins to shake, my heart and stomach both feel like they’re being wrung out. Gary just became a whole lot more punchable.
Chelsea shakes harder. It’s only when she throws her head back that I realize she’s laughing. Her hands clutch my shirt as she laughs, first silently, then with loud guffaws and then her characteristic snort. I know she finds it embarrassing, but I find it adorable.
“Chels?”
Her eyes meet mine, and they’re dancing with humor. “You won’t even believe this date if I told you.” She lets loose another hiccupping laugh.
“Try me.”
“I fell into—no.” She stops and shakes her head. A little fire returns to her eyes. “Garyknocked meinto the fountain inside the restaurant.”
He—what?
“I don’t … understand.”
“He took me to a Chinese buffet. There was a big fountain in the lobby. A fountain filled with koi.”
“And Garypushed youinto it?”
“It was an accident. Sort of. Gary got distracted staring at another woman”—I cannot hold back a rumbling growl at this. Chelsea grins and pats my chest. “Easy, tiger. Gary had his eyes on herassetsand bumped into me. My heel caught on a tile or something and—splash!—I went for a swim with the fishes.”
You know who else is going to be swimming with the fishes?
Gary.
“A koi swam up my skirt, Mason. A koi. Up myskirt.” She laughs again, then her expression shifts to something a whole lot less amused. She looks exhausted. “Meanwhile, Gary was getting another woman’s number. Then he called a rideshare so I wouldn’t get his leather seats wet.”
My jaw is clenched so tightly I can hear my teeth grinding.
Chelsea’s hand on my cheek draws my attention. “Hey,” she says softly. “I’m okay, big guy. It was just a bad date.”
Her blue eyes glow with warmth. Something about the way she’s comforting me when it should be the other way around has my tension slipping away. I unclench my fists and spread my palms over her back. She feels so small … and yet, she eclipses everything else in my life.
Chelsea bites her lip, and both of her hands return to clutching my shirt. “It seems like it shouldn’t be so hard to find a decent guy.”
My hands find the curve of her lower back. Chelsea’s eyes rove over my face, pausing on my lips, before they trace down my neck. Her hands let go of my shirt and flatten against my chest. I don’t know if she can feel the way my heart is racing, but I hope she does.
Not for the first time, I question the wisdom of my currentslowcourse of action. What if I just put it all on the line, right here and right now?
“I don’t know where in the world I could find a decent guy though,” Chelsea says, and I’m definitely not imagining the husky lilt of her voice. “Do you?”
She blinks up at me, her eyes telling a story. One I want to hear again and again until I’ve committed it to memory and can recite it on my own. The tension crackles between us, and I’m aware suddenly of every place our bodies are touching. Her back under my palms, her hands on my chest, our torsos completely lined up, inch by soaking wet inch.
A full-body shiver overtakes her.
I stiffen, pulling back just slightly. I’m not going to take advantage of a situation when she’s upset and soaking wet from being knocked into a fountain by a guy who looks—and, apparently,acts—like a comic book villain.
Right now, she needs something other than me making a move on her, and I have the perfect idea.
Her expression falls, and I know she’s having flashbacks to the way I pulled away emotionally after a similar almost kiss the other night. I meet her eyes, then lift my hand to cup her cheek. I may not be kissing her, but I’m also not backing down or pulling away this time.
Just … lightly tapping the brakes. For now.
“I want to do something for you, Chels. Is that okay?”
“Okay.” Her voice is small, and I give her shoulders a squeeze before stepping away.
