Don't Want You Like a Best Friend (Mischief & Matchmaking, #1)

by Emma R. Alban

She’s a constant social delight. Beth would rather sink straight into the floor than muster up that energy.

Gwen finds their height difference rather charming. Beth fits against her nicely.

Her perfume is lovely.

Any of them might feel lucky to have her. But she doubts she’ll feel as lucky in return to be had.

She thinks Beth’s likely to be a more amiable partner, and far nicer to look at.

Shouldn’t she be swooning? He’s swoon-worthy, she can tell. But there’s no swoon in her.

“I’m not jealous of your beau,” Gwen mutters. And then her lips crash onto Beth’s. Beth gasps against her mouth, frozen in shock. Her mind goes totally blank. Gwen, kissing, wine, jealous—oh. Oh. Gwen goes to pull back but Beth’s hands shoot out, quite of their own accord, clutching at her waist, anchoring Gwen against her. Beth rises on her toes, pressing their lips back together, the warm, soft pleasure of it trickling through her. This is what it’s supposed to be. This is what it’s supposed to feel like. Swoony and bright and everything.