Between the Lines

“Okay…” There must be someone here in NYC. Someone else he’s never told me about. This is like being bitten by dozens of mosquitoes. Like a scratchy tag on the inside back of a shirt. Like bamboo shoots pushed under your fingernails.

Not that I know about that last one.

“Are you… over Reid?” he asks then. “That night at the club, you were so upset.”

Reid? I close my eyes and attempt to refocus. “No. I mean, yes, I’m over him, but… that night, I was mostly messed up over a terrible fight I’d had with Emily a week or so before.” I open my eyes, stare into his. Talking to him is so easy, even now. “We’ve been best friends since we were five, but we’ve never said things to each other like that. We weren’t speaking, and after everything happened with Brooke and Reid, I needed her. I wanted to call her, and I couldn’t. I was afraid I’d screwed up so bad that I’d lost her forever.”

He considers this. “So the whole week before that—the ‘allergies’?”

I knew he’d seen through that ruse. He must have thought I was upset over Reid. “Yeah. That was about Emily, too.”

He scoots out of his booth and into mine, effectively blocking the two of us from view. His hand falls warm on my arm and it’s not fair that he has no idea what he’s doing to me. His dark eyes draw me in. Friendship with Graham is not going to work. Not when he’s this close.

I fight to keep my voice light and level. “The girl you love—is she someone I know?”

His expression is full of wonder. “Emma, you’re the most imperceptive person ever, right behind me. Maybe both of us need straightforward facts. No ambiguity. Everything clear.”

I nod. “Clear is good.”

He traces one finger down the side of my face. “How’s this for clear,” his voice is low and hollow as his fingertips brush over my lips. “I haven’t wanted anyone but you since the night we met. And as much as I value our friendship… being friends with you is not what I have in mind.” Cupping my chin in his hand, he kisses me softly, the tip of his tongue skimming my lips, and when I open and kiss him back, it turns deep and possessive and full of promise and I forget where we are and I feel it to my toes and back.

“Huh,” I say, my thoughts swirling as he smiles and rests his forehead against mine, staring into my eyes like he’s trying to read what I’m thinking right through them.

“You know, I think I’d prefer you keep that particular habit after all,” he says, before he kisses me again.