“Sage, I distinctly remember every part of that night. You didn’t seem that unwilling. You were practically on top of me.”
“I don’t really remember the details,” I lied.
He moved his hand from my neck and rested a fingertip on my lips. “But I’ll stick to just kissing these if it makes you feel better. No mark.” He started to lean toward me, and I jerked away.
“You will not! It’s wrong.”
“What, kissing you, or kissing you in Pies and Stuff?”
“Both,” I said, feeling my cheeks burn. “If you’re going to attempt something inappropriate—something you said you wouldn’t do anymore—then you could at least pick a better place.”
He laughed softly, and the look in his eyes confused me further. “Okay,” he said. “The next time I kiss you, I promise it’ll be in a more romantic place.”
“I—what? No! You shouldn’t try at all!”