Easton’s mouth hovers over mine. “Maya.” “Yes?” “I’m going to make you forget the word friend when I’m around.” My breath hitches. “What do you mean?” “If I haven’t made it crystal clear, I don’t want to be your friend whenever I do this.” He claims my mouth, the kiss burning me up as much as his roaming touch. “There’s no one else. Do you understand?” he rasps against my lips. I nod. “You want to be my boyfriend, not my friend.” “Boyfriend,” he repeats with a cocky tilt to his lips. “Yeah, I like the sound of that. Say it again, baby.” I thought I’d never be someone who dated hockey players
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