CHAPTER TWELVE
Parker
“I don’t know why I did that.” The words tumbled out of Raven’s mouth, and she stepped back again. She’d barely removed her hand from in front of her face to speak and now it was back, stretched across the lower half of her face, covering her mouth completely. Her nostrils were flaring from the tiny gap she’d left herself to breathe between the top of her finger and her nose.
I didn’t know why she’d done it either. The last thing I’d ever expected would be for her to kiss me. She was attracted to me—that was obvious from this morning with the pool table—but I assumed I’d be the one to break. Her control would never let her. Her pride would keep it contained.
But I hadn’t broken.
I didn’t know what the hell had happened, but I was pretty sure it was down to the mixture she’d put in the glass. She’d been a little too liberal with the tequila the last time around.
She was looking at me, though, and she didn’t look drunk in the slightest. Her gaze was focused, and sure, her cheeks were flushed, but that was more to do with the fact she’d kissed me than she’d been drinking.
And now, she wasn’t moving except for blinking at me. I didn’t know if she was shocked or horrified or both, but I knew one thing so clearly.
That kiss was nowhere fucking near enough.
My fingers twitched with the desire to grab her and kiss her properly. To make those damn blue eyes flutter shut. To make her red fingernails dig into my arms. To make her heart pound.
Every second I didn’t do that was a personal victory. It was the ultimate exercise in restraint, because the ghost of her lips still lingered on mine, and the warmth of her palm on my skin felt like it was burning.
Temptation like nothing I’d ever felt before gripped hold of me. It tightened my muscles and pumped through my blood like adrenaline, making it harder and harder not to give in and fucking kiss her like I wanted to.
I wanted to curl my hand into her hair and tug her head back. Wanted to hear her gasp as the pull on her hair made her scalp sting. Wanted to feel her desperation as my lips hovered over hers before I finally kissed her.
This was Raven.
So, I couldn’t.
I grabbed the tray with too much force and kicked open the kitchen door. It clattered against the wall, slamming slut after me, and I put the tray down on the side. The chrome top was cold against my palms as I gripped the edge and leaned forward, dropping my head.
My cock was fucking hard. Fucking hard at the thought I could walk out there and kiss her so damn thoroughly I’d wipe off all that red lipstick. That she’d be wet and would want me as much as I wanted her in this moment.
Raven.
She was Ryan’s sister.
Off-limits.
Out of bounds.
So fucking tempting.
I couldn’t do it to my best friend. One kiss from her could be brushed off as under the influence of alcohol and moved on from. The way I wanted to kiss her couldn’t be brushed off as anything but selfish need from me. Selfish, greedy, inconsiderate need.
I didn’t care.
I did. I did care. It was a lie. I’d never be able to look Ryan in the eye if I knew what it felt like to kiss her properly.
My respect for him outweighed my want for her.
The words rang like a lie even in the loudness of my mind.
Usually, yes. Yes, my respect for him outweighed anything else I could feel. But right now, it didn’t.
Nothing did.
I had to get the fuck out of here before I did something I’d regret tomorrow. Before I did the one fucking thing that would destroy my friendship with him.
I left the tray on the side. I’d regret it tomorrow, but getting the hell out of Dirty was my priority. I’d forgive myself, I was sure.
I didn’t even glance Raven’s way as I headed for the door. I’d thrown my shit in my car before I’d gone to find her on the beach, and now I was glad for my hindsight. If I’d had better hindsight, I’d have made Sienna call her like she’d offered to.
“Parker?” Raven’s voice was softer than usual, and she said my name at the exact moment I touched the door handle.
That was the only explanation for why I stopped and turned around. She was standing in front of the bar, almost directly across the room of me. She played with the damp cloth in her hands, winding it nervously around her fingers.
The apprehensive glimmer in her eyes hit me straight in the gut. It was so unlike her—a part of her rarely-seen softer side, the one she kept under wraps for everyone but a select few people.
She glanced away for a brief moment before saying, “Can we just...ignore that a moment ago?”
“Sure.” I kept my gaze trained on her eyes. “It was the alcohol, right? Forget it.”
She tugged the corner of her lower lip into her mouth with her teeth as she nodded. I took a deep breath when she looked down at the cloth in her hands. The only bright thing in her expression—her eyes—had gone, and I could almost feel the awkwardness rolling off of her.
Her eyelashes fanned long, spider-leg like shadows across her cheeks as she kept her attention downward. A deep breath made her shoulders rise and fall, and her lips pursed with the long, shaky exhale.
It wasn’t awkwardness.
It was embarrassment.
It tinged her cheeks pink, shook her hands, and made each breath sharper.
She was embarrassed, and I fucking hated it, because she had absolutely no reason to feel that way.
I let go of the door handle and, in a few short strides, I closed the distance between us. Her lips parted just enough that I could see she’d scraped a fleck of lipstick off the bottom one where she’d bitten it moments ago. I lingered on that for a moment before hooking my finger under her chin, forcing her head up.
Raven swallowed, her tongue just teasing the inside of her lip. I expected her to say something, to push me away, but she didn’t. She stood there, still not looking at me, but close enough that every short, sharp breath she took, no matter how quiet they actually were, seemed to scream at me.
“Raven.” Her name was nothing more than a low hum on my tongue.
She snapped her gaze up to mine. The apprehensive tone she’d spoken with peered back at me, mixing into a hurricane of emotions with her embarrassment and some frustration. Her cheeks got pinker the longer I looked at her, and when she opened her mouth to speak, I leaned in.
Placing my hands either side of her face, I took her mouth with mine.
Firmly.
Deliberately.
I wanted her to have no doubt that I absolutely meant to kiss her.
I slid my hands down her cheeks so I was cupping her jaw and my fingers curled around the sides of her neck. She shuddered when I pulled away only to go back and kiss her again, this time even harder. This time, she leaned into me, the cloth falling to the ground as she pressed her hands against my stomach. Her fingers curled with the dip in my abs, but all I could think about was the way her lips felt against mine.
Her lips were the softest I’d ever kissed. And I didn’t want to stop.
She tasted like the fruitiness of the cocktail we’d both drunk. Like pineapple and coconut, like orange and...freshness.
Like everything I shouldn’t be tasting, because I shouldn’t have been kissing her.
As if she could read my mind, Raven pulled away with a gasp that sent a shiver down the back of my neck.
In the silence that followed, a phone rang from somewhere in the bar.
Of fucking course.
She pushed away from me and ran to the back without another word to me.
The phone stopped ringing.
Five minutes later, it was obvious she wasn’t coming back.
I rubbed my hand across my face and did what I should have done when she asked if we could forget the fact she’d kissed me.
Left.