I’ve drained half of mine before he reaches for his glass, but he takes the smallest sip before setting it back on the table. His eyes follow my motion, though, watching the tilt of my glass, or maybe the curve of my fingers around the stem, or my lips or my throat or— I need to put this glass down. My cheeks are on fire, my thoughts a million miles away from where they should be. He’s tracing a finger around the base of his glass, and I blush. “I thought we were both going to be reckless,” I say. But of course, he’s never reckless. Never careless. Grey confirms it when he says, “I should be
...more
oh. my. god. hot.
