The Forbidden Throb (Emma and Daniel) novel Chapter 155

Chapter 155

war phas hayed Sow cars, oral arts of vapter punctuated conversations. Behind us,

hond Mored tees terperty perceptediouts cts were mediate concerts about final exams.

Bout sitting There is that wavy Variable,Tarte Sheet he herpes of Detwei’ s gave – sinking into something warm and

But now I loved it. Loved all of him. This old fashioned, deliberate way of speaking felt endearing, intimate in a way I’d never appreciated

Under the table, I stretched out my foot and lightly kicked his shin-my patent leather Mary Jane playful against his perfectly pressed wool

“So,” I said, tilting my head and letting my eyes go deliberately soft. “What other things did you do that you weren’t supposed to?”

1 paused, then added with what I hoped was an enticing smile, “Were you thinking about me?*

His eyes dropped to where my foot was still pressed against his leg. The corner of his mouth lifted in that barely-there smile that made my

Yes, he waid simply, his unce guiiot but steady, “Every moment.

Holt my hanks flush:

Wait I was supposed to be the one teasing him. How had he turned this around so completely?

Flooked at him and admitted defeat in this particular battle.

Time to change the subject.

wasn’t usually a talkative person. Growing up, Victoria had criticized me repeatedly for being too quiet, too withdrawn. She’d said my dull,

9:04 am Pppp.

Chapter 155

boring personality would make people reject me once I left home.

But with Daniel, I always seemed to have so much to say.

Random things, really. Scattered thoughts with no particular logic or importance. But he always responded, always listened like every word

mattered.

“I saw a street performer dressed as Santa Claus outside the convention center the other day,” I said, my words tumbling out. It made me think

about Halloween back in Boston-Olivia wanted me to go to this costume party with her and her boyfriend, but I felt weird being the third

wheel, so I didn’t go.”

Daniel’s expression softened. “Next year,” he said quietly, “you can start planning your costume now. Whatever you want to do, wherever you

want to go-I’ll come with you.”

My heart did a little flip. “Really?”

“Really.” He took a sip of water.

I tried to picture it-Daniel Prescot, impeccably dressed surgeon and Harvard professor, wearing some ridiculous Halloween costume. A vampire? A pirate? The image was so absurd I almost laughed out loud.

“I can’t even imagine you in a costume,” I admitted. “You’re always so… perfect. So put-together.” I tilted my head, studying him. “Didn’t you have any embarrassing moments growing up? Any awkward phases?”

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