But when I get my first foot on the rung of the ladder, his right hand closes over my left one, his other hand gripping my hip and flipping me around so I’m abruptly sitting on the top rung, him floating between my legs. We breathe like we raced here, his eyes wide and intense on mine for only a moment before they go to my mouth and he leans in. “Tait,” he whispers. “Yes?” I say, and the breathy tone makes my cheeks heat again. “Can I—shit.” He shakes his head a little, but I’m already nodding mine. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he says, his voice a low rumble. And then he does.
