“Maybe.” She wet her lips, and he found himself transfixed as she pushed away from the counter and stepped closer. “Maybe it could be two people in a weird place who could keep each other company until they find their way out of it?”
Hill swallowed hard and stepped around the island, stopping an arm’s length away from her. “I’d like that.”
He watched as Andi’s throat worked. She was nervous as hell, but there was a determined look in her eyes. She moved into his space and put her hands on his waist. “I think I can work with that.”
Hill gave in to the urge to touch her and gently cupped the back of her neck. He felt like he was holding a robin’s egg in his palm—something beautiful and special but fragile. He wanted to kiss Andi so badly he ached, but he also sensed if he made one wrong move, he’d crush the egg in his fist. He needed her to be clear. “Tell me what you’re asking for.”
Her hands were resting lightly on his hips, and her fingers twitched against him. “I need something fun and light with no pressure of any kind. Taking it slow with someone I can feel safe with. A friend. That I can watch movies and cook with but also maybe kiss and touch sometimes.” She met his gaze. “And honestly, I don’t know if it would move beyond that. I need you to know that. This is basically going to be…an experiment. I may freak out sometimes. Will probably freak out sometimes.”
“Experimenting.” Enticing images flooded his mind, and he traced his thumb in the tender spot behind her ear. “That sounds kind of amazing.”
“Really?” Her gaze widened, and he almost laughed at her surprise.
“Why do you look so shocked?”
“Because most guys are down for a hookup or even friends with benefits, but that’s because jumping in bed is implied. I’m telling you I may not get to that point. I’m telling you I’ll probably panic sometimes and flat-out reject you.”
He released a breath. “Then most guys are dicks. Andi, someone hurt you and violated your trust. You’re dealing with the aftermath of that.”
She closed her eyes.
“You don’t owe me anything,” he went on. “A kiss can just be a kiss. A touch can just be a touch. I understand it’s not a promise or an invitation for more than that. I understand the word ‘no.’ I understand the concept of slow. Have you seen me walk? I’m a goddamned master at slow.”
She finally opened her eyes and smiled at that.
“Plus,” he said, “kissing, touching, making out like teenagers—those things can feel pretty fucking good all on their own.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “They can.”
“I miss those things,” he admitted, revealing probably more than he should. That he hadn’t kissed anyone since Christina. “It’s been a while.”
“Me too,” she said softly.
He searched her expression. “So, are we doing this, then?”
Resolve came over her expression.
“Yeah, we’re doing this.” Her hands went to the front of his shirt, and then she pushed up on her toes like last night, only this time her lips landed against his mouth. She pressed her lips gently to his. He closed his eyes.
The kiss was sweet and soft, tentative. He kept his hand on her neck, feeling the quickening of her pulse and letting the pleasure of the contact suffuse through him. It’d been forever since he’d experienced that first blush of attraction with someone when everything was new. And it’d been so long since he’d been touched that even the simple kiss threatened to make him hard and hot.
Luckily, she pulled back before he embarrassed himself. She looked up at him, her lips shiny, and she smiled a triumphant smile. “I kissed you.”
He laughed under his breath. “I’m well aware. Every part of me is aware, I think.”
“And I didn’t freak out.” She tipped her chin up, clearly pleased, and patted his chest. “Go, me.”
“Gold star.” He pressed his thumb gently to her forehead like he had a sticker to award her.
“My first werewolf kiss.” She lifted a brow. “Does this mean I’m going to turn at the full moon now?”
He smirked. “Nah, I think I’d have to bite you for that.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” She playfully poked him. “This has got to be a Crock-Pot experiment—cooked low and slow.”
He chuckled. “That’s the least sexy analogy I’ve ever heard. We’re a pot roast.”
She sniffed, affronted. “Pot roast can be very satisfying.”
He leaned down and kissed her gently, needing to take his own step forward, but he didn’t linger or push it further. “Yes, it can.”
She rubbed her lips together and gave him a look that damn near melted his insides. “You’re pretty good at that, neighbor.”
“I try.”
She gave his T-shirt a little tug and then stepped backward. “Well, I’m going to get out of your hair. My people will be in touch with your people to arrange our next cook-and-watch. And we still need to take that WorkAround tour.”
“You don’t need to leave, you know.” He jutted a thumb toward the grocery bags. “I could cook us something now.”
She gave him a little smile. “No, I better go. Today’s been a big day. I need some time.”
“Understood,” he said with a nod.
She stepped forward and gave him another quick kiss. “Bye for now.”
He watched her walk out, hips swaying, dress dancing around her legs, and marveled at the turn of events. He didn’t know what strange universe he’d landed in, but he hoped to stay a while.
Chapter Thirteen
Andi perused her DVD collection, trying to find the perfect follow-up to her and Hill’s Halloween marathon. There were some obvious choices if they wanted to stay in the foundational zone—Psycho, Nightmare on Elm Street, Carrie, The Shining. But she was in the mood for something different tonight. She was already feeling a little anxious because this would be the first movie date after their kissing-is-now-allowed conversation a few days ago. She needed something lighter.
Horror comedy.
She smiled. That could be perfect. Nothing slapstick but something that played with dark humor. She didn’t want to rewatch Scream yet. Hill wouldn’t appreciate that one fully since there was a lot of winking at tropes from previous horror movies. Her finger slid over the DVD cases. Gremlins was a possibility, but she liked to reserve that one for Christmastime. Jennifer’s Body. Maybe. Cabin in the Woods. Too meta. Ready or Not. Could be fun. Her finger stopped. Happy Death Day. “And we have a winner.”