Bonny’s POV
The second kiss was worse.
Because now I knew what it could do to me.
The first had been shock.
This one was recognition.
His mouth moved with slow certainty, as if he had already learned exactly how to undo my thoughts. My hands landed against his chest on instinct. I meant to push him away.
I did not.
Instead, I gripped the front of his shirt.
A tactical failure.
When he finally pulled back, I was breathing harder than dignity allowed.
“This is becoming a pattern,” I said.
“Yes.”
“You sound pleased.”
“I am.”
I glared at him.
“That was not permission to be smug.”
“I’m not smug.”
“You’re visibly smug.”
“I’m efficient.”
“Stop calling everything efficient.”
“It usually is.”
I stepped away before I did something foolish like kiss him first.
The terrace doors
