“It’s not exactly an apartment.” Bridger rubs the scruff of his eleven o’clock shadow. “To prove that we’re embracing the Adams family lifestyle, we need to play the part. And that means a … substantial house.”
“How substantial?” I ask. “Like, a mansion?”
His stoic silence makes my stomach swoop.
“Dude.” Dex smirks. “Is it a palace? A castle? Come on, man. Give us a hint.”
Bridger ignores the prodding, checks his watch, then turns back to me. “It’s getting late and neither one of us gotmuch sleep last night.” He reaches for my arm. “Can I walk you to your car?”
“Not so fast.” Dex throws up a hand to block us. “We need one more pic before we go to really send a message to Mrs. Bridger’s Mom.”
“Excuse me,” Sayla interjects. “I took a million pictures in every position possible. I didn’t miss a thing.”
“Yeah, you did.” Dex shoots a glance at Bridger, and his mouth goes crooked.
My heart skitters in my chest.
Oh no. I have an idea what’s?—
“We need a kiss shot,” Dex quips. “You know. Like a kill shot. Except with lips.”
“Dexter Michaels.” Sayla frowns. “Your friend is trying to be a gentleman, and you aren't helping.”
“I’m helping in the best possible way,” Dex says. “Bridger’s mom isn’t stupid. She’s not gonna be convinced by pictures of you two throwing darts.” Dex glances at me. “Face facts. We can’t leave here until you two mash mouths.”
“Oh, come on.” Sayla groans. “I’m sorry, Loren. I married a teenager.”
“No, you married a genius who’s saving this plan,” Dex insists.
My ribs suddenly feel too tight, so I draw in a gust of air then peek at Bridger. His eyes are already on me, and something ripples across them. Like he’s processing our options.
Then he blinks. A decision made.
“Dex is right,” he says. “But we can make this quick. And only if you agree.”
I exhale, and for a moment, we both stand there frozen, until I realize he’ll never make the first move. Sayla called it. He’s a gentleman through and through.
So I take a small step toward him, then another. “I trust you,” I say. He reaches for me tentatively, settling his handson my hips. As his palms encircle me, I tip my chin up, close my eyes, and part my lips just enough so I can breathe.
Am I still breathing?
His fingers tighten. Like he’s holding himself back. And then … his warm mouth grazes mine.
At the first whisper of contact, white-hot sparks ricochet through my body, and I pull back with a gasp, quickly tucking my hair behind my ears.
Whoa.
What was that?
“What was that?!” Dex snarks. “The judges give you two out of ten!”
Sayla frowns, checking her phone. “No one asked you for a score.”
Also? That didnotfeel like a two out of ten to me.
“You guys looked like you barely know each other.” Dex shakes his head. “If I may offer some notes?—”
“No notes,” Bridger grits out.