Like he was ever going to forget what those red velvet shooters were. He associated their first kiss with them. He wasn’t losing that memory anytime soon.

“I’ve had people say I smell like bread, cookies, cake.” She ticked them off on her fingers.

“Not bad smells to be associated with. What was the weirdest?”

“Hmm.” She tapped her cheek, rolling her bottom lip inward before releasing it with a pop. “Honey roasted peanuts.”

He dragged his eyes away from her mouth, chuckling. “They do smell good, so that’s a fair comparison. You smell good everywhere.”

Well, now, he’d done it. Ratcheted up the already present tension by referencing the one thing they were actively avoiding talking about.

“I should get back,” she said hastily. “Time to start the games.”

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to make this any weirder than it already is.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine. Don’t stress.”

“Except it’s not.” Why wasn’t he shutting up? This wasn’t the place or time. But dammit, he had Cherisse here now. When would he get the chance to discuss any of this? The wedding? He didn’t think so. “Look, I’m gonna be real with you. I can’t stop thinking about you and me. And...we had sex. There’s no way I can pretend it didn’t happen. I can’t. I know that’s what you want, and I get it.” He blew out a breath.

Cherisse opened her mouth then snapped it shut like she wasn’t sure what to say. He’d put her on the spot, but he was tired. Tired of walking around on eggshells. He was distracted in the studio too. That was never a good thing. He couldn’t blame Cherisse for that. It all just added to his frustrations, which were bubbling over at the worst time.

Cherisse looked around. She rubbed her arm, eyes flitting about before her gaze came back to rest on him. “I can’t stop thinking about it, either. That what you wanted to hear?”

“Yes. Then why’d you go out with Jerome?”

Cherisse reared back in surprise. “That’s...none of your business.”

“Maybe. Doesn’t hurt any less.”

“What are you doing? Don’t say shit like that. We’re not doing this.” She shook her head. “I...I need to go. The games need to get started.” She turned to leave him with his heart in the dust.

“Just vomiting my feelings everywhere as one does.” Stop this. Cherisse wasn’t obligated to like him back, and he damn well knew that. Sex didn’t mean she felt anything other than lust for him.

She turned back, a ball of anger in his face now. “Now isn’t the place for this. You wanna hash this out? Fine. Later. Don’t make this about you.”

He was pissed. Hurt. Acting a fool. Yet seeing Cherisse like this made him want to kiss her. The damn closet was basically calling to him now. A fired-up Cherisse was a goddamn beautiful thing. As if she knew what he was thinking, her eyes dropped to his mouth for several heartbeats. She tore her gaze back up to meet his stare.