After the Fall

little, his soft goatee brushing my chin, and I finally remembered how to move enough to part my lips. We both sighed as the kiss deepened slightly. His hand moved to the side of my neck, and he held on gently, as if he’d needed to steady himself a little. He kissed me like he was nervous and confident all at once—scared to death to make the move, but determined all the same to do it.
    The response below my belt wasn’t remotely chaste, but the kiss itself was. This was so . . . different. A subtle kiss, lips only and no tongue at all, without pressing our bodies together, and it brought my thoughts to a standstill no differently than if he’d slammed me up against the wall and kissed me like we were going to fuck right then and there.
    A first kiss was usually a one-way ticket to a one-night stand or an awkward exit, but this one . . . I didn’t know where anything was going now. Leaning half on a crutch and half on him, lips moving so slowly with his, I was sure the world had stopped, and if and when it started again hinged on when this kiss reached its eventual end.
    I was the first to pull away, and when I met his eyes, the world still wasn’t moving underneath us. His eyebrows were up, pulled together in an unspoken question, his expression full of nerves and doubts and even a little fear. No, more than a little fear. Like he was a breath away from “I’m sorry” or “God, I don’t know what came over me.”
    Sure enough, after a moment of stunned silence, he drew back a little more and found some air: “I’m sorry, that—”
    “Don’t apologize,” I whispered. “And please don’t tell me it won’t happen again.”
    He held my gaze. “Really?”
    I smiled. “Do you think I didn’t like you kissing me?”
    “Well, no. But I . . . um, I guess I hadn’t . . .” He swallowed. “I hadn’t thought beyond this point, to be honest. Figured I’d . . .” He broke eye contact, cheeks coloring again. Goddamn him, he even made shy sexy.
    “Figured you’d kiss me and go from there?”
    He laughed almost tonelessly. “Something like that.”
    “It’s worked so far. Why don’t you kiss me again and go from here?”
    His head snapped up, and our eyes met again, and his were wide with surprise.
    I grinned in spite of these unfamiliar nerves fluttering in the pit of my stomach. “I don’t bite.”
    Ryan laughed again, and again it was nearly silent, and I was so close to begging him to take me up on the offer and please, please, please kiss me again, but then he touched my neck and leaned in and did exactly that.
    His lips were more confident this time but still tentative. I took the reins from him, putting a hand behind his neck and holding him firmly as I teased his lips apart with my tongue. Ryan shivered, pulling in a breath through his nose as I slipped the tip of my tongue under his. His fingers drifted up into my hair, sending goose bumps down the back of my neck.
    I pulled back, pausing to sweep my tongue across my lips. “Do you . . . um . . .” I swallowed. This was the moment when I’d usually either feign tiredness and call it a night, or invite him in to check out my bedroom ceiling, but neither option seemed like a natural progression with Ryan. “Do you want to come in for a while?”
    “Sure. You probably shouldn’t stay on that leg too long anyway.” His teeth snapped shut and his eyes widened. “I . . . that’s not what I meant. I—”
    “It’s okay.” I laughed as I dug my house key out of my pocket. “I do need to put it up.” I paused, key halfway to the door. “We can just, um, hang out in the living room for a while?”
    Ryan nodded. “That works.”
    He seemed relieved by the idea. Weird. He’d been the one to make the move, but the assurance we weren’t headed straight for my bedroom calmed him.
    I keyed us into the apartment, and we went into the living room. Brad was probably already asleep, so we moved quietly and only turned on the small lamp beside the couch, which lit up the room with a soft, dim glow.
    Ever since I’d broken my leg, the simple act of relaxing on my goddamned couch had become more complicated than drunken calculus. Getting from a vertical position to a horizontal one. Pillows against my back if I wanted to sit up. Mountains of pillows and blanket under the cast whether I wanted to sit up or lie down. Arranging the mountains and the piles so the slightest movement wouldn’t cause a bedding avalanche and let everyone else in