Lunangelique (The Lunangelique Series) by Kristin R Campbell Page A

wrist, working his way slowly up to the inside of my elbow and back down, repeating the motion. I use my free hand to run my fingers through his hair, tangling my fingers through his curls. “What are you thinking about?” I ask him since he’s gone all quiet, lost in the motion of caressing one of my appendages with his lips.
    “How much I like you. The pull I always feel to be near you, to touch you,” he says in an accusing way, his eyes look like they are blaming me. “I thought I would go mad the other day when you locked yourself up at home and wouldn’t talk to me. I wanted to come see you but thought it best to let your anger wind down first. You have quite a temper on you.” He gives me a wicked grin.
    “Then, yesterday, I had every intention of planning something special with you to make up for our predicament, to work out something, come to a pleasant conclusion, to give into you.” He pauses. “But then Alex told me about the party and I knew you were still mad at me, so I waited some more. I was going to wait until today to talk to you but then I saw you flirting with some guy and knew I couldn’t wait out the storm anymore. I thought I would lose any hope of being with you if I continued to wait.” He stops after his confessions.
    I feel elated to hear his worries from over the past few days. Glad that I wasn’t the only one disturbed and fretting. “It seems we’ve both fell victims to a misunderstanding.” I think through the consequences of admitting my behavior towards him before I say, “Honestly, I was really hurt that you didn’t come over that next day. I was stubborn and I didn’t want to be the first one to give in and run to you. I was feeling a little taken advantage of and didn’t want to fall victim to a scam relationship.”
    A grin spreads on his face when he says, “I’ll remember that for the next time.”
    “The next time?” I sound astonished.
    “The next time you are mad at me and stay locked in your house or don’t invite me to one of your little parties.” I smack his arm playfully and then lean back in my chair, noticing for the first time that we were huddled close together while we talked.
    “How well do you know the guy you were flirting with?” He looks down at my fingers that he is still holding on to.
    I huff out air, not wanting to admit this part to him, knowing it will worry him after I just told him I don’t date the guys I’ve grown up with. Ollie is new, so that excuse is not going to work this time. He doesn’t have to know that part, yet. “Just a friend that I was hoping you would see me flirting with so you would march over and sweep me off my feet.” He smiles but I see concern on his face.
    “How long have you known him?”
    “Jealous much?” I tease him but there is something in his eyes that tells me he’s in a serious mood. My smile quickly leaves my face. “Just since the day I met you. Why?” I’m picking up another vibe from him and it’s not a jealous one.
    “He just looks familiar,” he shakes his head to shake off the conversation. I’m about to tell him that he wouldn’t know him unless he’s been to Rome, which he might have for all I know, but before I can continue the conversation, the lights start to flicker their warning that the show is about to start. We sit back in our seats and get ready for a drama-filled Opera. Cole picks up my hand that is between us and continues to fidget with my fingers in a way that causes electric sensations to run through my body.
    *
    When the Opera is over I am left feeling thankful that my life isn’t so complicated as the characters in the Greek drama. I don’t know what I would do if my life was so out of control that I ended up pulling my hair out and killing myself. It definitely wasn’t the romantic opera which would have made this date forever memorable.
    When we finally get in the car Cole asks me what I thought of the opera.
    “Honestly, I’ve heard a lot of good