She still wanted to kiss him.
Taking a ragged breath in, she tried to ignore her body’s response to him. Tried to remind herself why this was such a bad idea. But his closeness was overwhelming her, making her want to reach out and touch him.
‘Ryan … ’
He looked as conflicted as she did. ‘Yeah. I should go.’
But she didn’t want him to. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d felt in the dance club, holding his body tight against hers. His muscles hard against the softness of her curves, the two of them fitting together as though it was meant to be.
‘Stay.’ She reached out to touch his arm. Bad idea, Juliet, bad idea. Pushing that thought down, she circled her fingers around his wrist.
‘London, I can’t.’ He looked as if he was in pain.
‘Why not?’
‘Because every time I look at you, I want you.’ He closed his eyes, pinching the skin at the top of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. ‘You’ve made it clear you just want to be friends. I’m trying to respect that.’
‘Oh.’ She let go of his wrist. A mixture of emotions washed over her. Sadness that her friend was upset, elation that he wanted her. But more than anything she felt fear. Not of him, but of herself. Of her own desire.
‘I’m gonna go.’ He went to turn and make for the hallway. An impulse overtook her, made her reach out for his arm again. He looked at her with a quizzical expression, and without letting herself think about it, she stepped forward, rolling onto the balls of her feet, and pressed her lips against his.
His mouth was soft and warm, and for a moment he was a statue, as though the shock had frozen him still. But then she moved her lips against his, lifting her hand to cup his jaw, and he leaned into her. Still kissing, he threaded his fingers through her hair, deepening their embrace until his tongue slid softly against hers.
She couldn’t believe she was doing this, and yet it felt so good, so right. She looped her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his, squeezing her eyes shut tight as they gave in to their desire. Her skin was flushed all over, tingling with need. He overwhelmed her senses – the feel of him, the taste of him, the sound of his rapid breaths as he tried to take in some air.
‘London,’ he murmured against her lips. She opened her eyes, and he was staring straight at her. She kissed him again, leaving him in no doubt how much she wanted this. She needed it, like she needed air.
‘Mommy, can we have some more popcorn?’ Poppy’s voice carried through the thick atmosphere between them. Alarmed, Juliet stepped out of Ryan’s embrace. They exchanged an anxious glance.
‘What, honey?’ she called out, her voice sounding unnaturally high. Her eyes were still wide as she glanced over Ryan’s shoulder, seeing Poppy running down the stairs, holding a bowl.
Juliet ducked under Ryan’s arms, trying to put some space between them. She could feel the blood pooling in her cheeks, making them flame as she tried to calm her body down.
‘We’ve run out of popcorn,’ Poppy said impatiently. ‘Oh, hi, Ryan.’ She sounded normal, unalarmed. Had she seen anything? Juliet wasn’t sure, but either way she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole.
Kind of the way she’d wanted Ryan to do the same thing only seconds earlier.
‘You’ve eaten it already? You guys are going to explode.’ Ryan grinned, taking the plastic bowl from her daughter. How could he be so calm when she felt moments away from combusting? ‘Maybe you should take a break before you have any more.’
Still trying to control her breathing, Juliet took the bowl from Ryan, being careful not to touch his fingers with hers. She didn’t trust herself not to do something embarrassing if she did.
‘Oh, is that Fluffy? Charlie was wondering where he was,’ Poppy said, still oblivious to the atmosphere in the room. ‘Charlie, Fluffy’s here!’ she shouted. Moments later, Ryan’s son came running down the stairs, his face lighting up when he saw his dad, and his favourite stuffed toy on the kitchen counter, where Ryan had left him.
Suddenly, they were back to being mom and dad. Juliet wasn’t sure whether she was disappointed or relieved.
Either way, it felt as if there was unfinished business between them.
And she wasn’t sure if she wanted it finished or not.
Ryan closed his front door behind him, and leaned against the wall, rubbing the heel of his palms against his eyes in an attempt to calm himself. What the hell just happened? One minute he was leaving, the next they were kissing like teenagers. He touched his lips, remembering the sensation of her mouth against his, the sweetness of her tongue as she opened up to him.
He’d wanted to ask her what was happening. But Charlie and Poppy had hung around, asking for more drinks and demanding Juliet watch the movie with them. In the end he’d left the house with nothing more than a meaningful look, and questions that wouldn’t stop ping-ponging around his brain. What was she thinking? Did she make a mistake? Or did she want him as much as he wanted her?
He didn’t know the answer to any of those questions, and he wouldn’t without talking to her. Yet he’d made himself a promise, not to push her. That he’d respect her wish to be just friends. If she wanted something more than that, he wasn’t going to be the one to push it. He respected her way too much for any of that macho bullshit. As much as it killed him, he was going to have to wait for her to make any moves.
Whatever happened next – if anything happened at all – it was up to her. And the wait was going to be the death of him.
13