Breaking The Ice [bxb]

Chapter Twelve (pt. 2) [Eli]

Time goes by and I finish the dishes before he finally comes. Eleven minutes after our shifts were supposed to start.

"You're late," I mutter, washing my hands with my back to him. Because blunt, cold indifference is what I would've given him in this situation if I hadn't tried to kiss him the night before.

Stupid.

"I know," he simply says.

"Yet you're still late."

"My ride forgot she was my ride," he explains, and I can tell he's closer now.

I take a deep breath in, tucking every trace of panic and every small sign of embarrassment away from sight. His sight.

I turn around, hands still wet. "Don't you have a car of your own?"

He shrugs.

Why does that annoy me? What was I expecting from him? What the fuck is my—

Without warning or request for permission, he takes two long strides to close the distance between us. My breath catches in my throat. Before I have time time to ask what the hell he thinks he's doing, he puts both hands on the sides of my body, leaning in to lock our lips together.

His grip around me is loose enough to let me get away and there is enough space behind me to allow me to step back if I wanted to. But I don't. I stay frozen in place and let him kiss me.

It's sure, but still. Just lips on lips. Yet, that alone is enough to make my insides twist and churn.

When he pulls away, I stay put. The look on his face is a silent question. There's some kind of awe-charged curiosity in it too. I realize then that the kiss was a test.

My head is cold mash. There's no blood supply there at the moment. I'm a dumb, reckless idiot again. And I act like one.

Not knowing whether that means I pass or fail his test, I put my hands, still wet, around his face and kiss him again. Like last night, there's a split second in which he pulls away just slightly, surprised, before coming right back in to meet me in the middle.

My heart shoots out to my throat, pumping too loudly and too fast for him not to hear it. His lips move against mine and my stomach ignites. It's a kind of euphoria I never experienced before. More desperate than I would like to admit. Like a man drinking from a fountain he never thought he'd found in a scorching desert. Or an iced one, in my case.

His hands fill with my uniform shirt, pulling it a little from my jeans, and I recognize the unmistakable heat down there.

Dumb, reckless, idiot. Stupid.

One of his hands slides up my back, pulling us flush against each other. His thigh brushes against my groin and I can feel him smile triumphantly into the kiss.

That's when I come to my senses. Because, fuck, that's Liam Astor. And, fuck, we're at work. And, shit, somebody could walk in from either one of the two available entrances at any moment.

I push him off me, perhaps a little too harshly, making him stumble back a little. Liam stares at me, breathless and disheveled, with his short dark hair wet at the sides from my hands. He clearly has questions. For once in his life, I hope he keeps them to himself.

I grab a towel from the counter behind me to dry my hands, then proceed to tuck my button-up back into my jeans. The double-swing doors open as soon as I'm done and my brother walks in.

Liam turns around at the same time I lift my head to look at Elliott. He looks considerably less composed, though. Like he's still trying to make sense of what just happened. Even though the asshole fucking started it.