Just Jelly Beans and Jealousy by Tammy Falkner Page A

her face soft. Her green
eyes blink at me as her gaze skitters around my face. “It’s just a
kiss,” she says softly. “Why are you all torn up about a kiss?”
    She’s studying me way too closely. “I’m not
torn up,” I protest.
    “You’ve been moping ever since I told you
about the fundraiser, Sean,” she says. “What’s your problem? It’s
for charity, for God’s sake.” She lays her free hand on her chest.
“My kiss is going to feed victims of domestic violence. I’m doing
my part for a better community.”
    I look down at her mouth. God, I could just
slide my fingers into her hair, pull her to me, and kiss her right
here and now. But I won’t. Because she doesn’t want me. “I can’t
believe you’re going kiss some stranger,” I bite out. “Don’t do
it.”
    “I’ve kissed men before, Sean,” she reminds
me. I wish she would keep that shit to herself.
    “What if it’s some big, goofy guy with really
bad breath?” I ask.
    “What if it’s some big, brawny guy who smells
like you and kisses like a god?” she asks. She smiles, the corners
of her lips tilting up so prettily. Her fingertips touch my forearm
lightly, and she traces the tattoos that decorate my arm from wrist
to shoulder. Every hair on my body stands up, and I lift my hand
from her knee and thread my fingers with hers so she’ll stop. “If
I’m lucky, he’ll be all tatted up, too.” She looks off into the
distance, her gaze no longer on me.
    “Honey, if you want to kiss someone who looks
like me and smells like me, I think I can accommodate you so you
don’t have to kiss some stranger.”
    Her eyes shift back to meet mine, and she may
as well have just punched me in the gut. She looks into my eyes and
stares as if she’s looking into my soul. She can look into it
anytime. Shit, I’d give it to her, if she wanted it. But it’s not
me she wants. She’s made that abundantly clear.
    “If I ever kissed you, I would never be able
to stop,” I say quietly. My voice sounds like it’s been dragged
down a gravel road and back, and I fucking hate that she can affect
me this way.
    “Prove it,” she says, and then she licks her
cherry-red lips. She doesn’t break eye contact.
    I move quickly. This is the first time she’s
ever made an offer like this, and my gut tells me that she’s going
to take it back. I cup her neck with my palm and pull her toward
me. My gentle tug brings her flush against my chest, and the weight
of her settles against me and feels so right. Her lips are so close
to mine that her inhale is my exhale. My hand quivers as it holds
her nape, so I work my fingers into the hair at the back of her
head. I hold her still and look into her green eyes.
    “Tell me you want me to kiss you and you got
me, honey,” I whisper. She shivers and inches up my chest ever so
slightly, her mouth moving closer to mine. So close. Just a little
closer. I can almost taste her.
    “I want you to kiss me,” she whispers.
“Please.”
    Suddenly, the door opens, and Lacey jumps up,
separating us in one final, powerful leap. Fuck. I pull the pillow
from behind my head and shove it in my lap, sitting up on the side
of the bed.
    Friday, Lacey’s roommate, walks into the
room. Friday stops, her gaze moving from Lacey to me and back.
    Lacey’s breaths are heavy, and I can tell
she’s upset about being caught like that. “Great timing, Friday,” I
say quietly.
    “Were you guys about to get it on?” Friday
asks, her grin cheeky. She points to Lacey and then at me, and then
goes back and forth. “Look at you two,” she crows. Her gaze
narrows. “What did I miss?” she asks.
    Friday works at the tattoo shop I like to go
to. It’s called Reed’s, and I’ve known Logan, one of the artists,
since we started college. He and Friday are pretty tight. “Where’s
Logan?” I ask. We need to change the subject. “Did he come with
you?”
    She nods and jerks a thumb toward the door.
“They’re right behind me.” Logan’s