"You aren't scary."
He laughed softly. "I like that you think that."
She said it again, a little more firmly this time. "You aren't scary."
He smiled and brought his other hand up to press both hands to her cheeks. His eyes were so dark and intense that she thought for a moment that he might kiss her. The idea made a faint blush come to her cheeks in anticipation.
He did not. "You're cold."
She told herself that she was not disappointed. "Just a little," she said. "I'm all right."
"Just a little," he repeated. His fingers gently smoothed the hair back from her face, following the strands down along her neck. Where his fingers brushed her skin, she felt warmer. His hands trailed down her neck to her shoulders, where they stopped. He gently pulled her forward, and she knew that all this tension and buildup was going to have some release. Rebecca felt the moment. He was going to do it.
He did. He kissed her on the forehead, like an older brother.
The letdown was almost palpable. She looked down, unable to meet his eyes. She felt so silly. Of course he was only fond of her. Hadn't he just said he wasn't interested?
He touched her chin, tilting her face up. She tried to keep the disappointment off her face, knowing it was useless, that he probably knew, and she surely looked like a fool.
Rebecca couldn't read his expression clearly in the dim light from the streetlamps, but his eyes shone like they were amused. "Well," he said, and stopped.
"What?" she whispered. She didn't trust her voice.
Christopher smiled. His voice was soft and intimate. "Now, it will be a surprise."
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.