Con Artist by Tiffany Andrea

Author:Tiffany Andrea [Tiffany Andrea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Burden of Proofreading Publishing
Published: 2023-09-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter twenty-two

Con Descending

Georgia

He’s kissing me. Our lips haven’t touched since the brief moment at the hockey game over three weeks ago, under the scrutiny of thousands of spectators. This is entirely different. This time, his hands are caressing my waist underneath his jacket. His tongue swipes the seam of my lips, and I’m powerless to resist letting him in. He doesn’t hesitate, leaving me struggling to stay upright. The buzz zipping through me is no longer on account of the three glasses of wine I drank to calm my nerves. Not only are his lips responsible for my buzz, but they’ve also shifted my body temperature from cool to inferno. I’m at risk of incinerating his blazer.

I’m not sure how much time passes before we break apart. The cool air fills the space between us, making me miss his body heat immediately.

For a moment, I want to bask in the contentment that follows, but when I open my eyes to look at Archie, all I feel is a flood of anxiety. One that mimics the feeling when the bus driver slams on their brakes and you aren’t sure if you’ll stop in time. That fear-fueled moment not knowing if you’re about to crash. His face is a mask of conflicting emotions. He blinks several times in succession, tugs the collar of his shirt, and avoids looking at me.

Guilt? Regret? Which one is unclear, but I know whatever he’s feeling isn’t good.

This was a mistake.

Instead of waiting for him to shoot me down, I act first. “I’m going to call it a night.”

He breathes out a long sigh, still looking over the edge of the terrace. “Georgia…”

“It’s fine. You don’t need to explain yourself. I didn’t knock your socks off or whatever. Message received.” I’m not one to jump to conclusions, but this situation calls for a little self-preservation. I don’t wait to hear his reply before I’m headed for the door.

Archie calls after me, but I don’t stop until I’m inside and toss his jacket on the back of the sectional. Then I spot the sink full of dishes I either have to wash here or carry them back downstairs. Staying here will only open the door for more awkwardness, though.

As I stack the dishes so they’ll be easier to carry, shoving what I can in a tote bag, Archie walks inside. He looks like he’s gone six rounds in a battle with his better judgment and lost.

He still avoids eye contact. Apparently, his shoes are extra interesting, because he can’t tear his focus from them. I kind of want to kill Rene right now. She’s the one who talked me into this, and I’m the fool who listened. Granted, she’s not familiar with my kissing skills, so she couldn’t have known I’d fumble the entire evening on that part.

“Georgia?” Archie finally turns to face me.

My cheeks burn hot under his gaze. A combination of being stupidly attracted to him and utterly embarrassed that he looks like he wants to vomit.

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