Owen's grin was infectious, and Cecilia couldn't help but laugh a little at that reaction. "You frickin' dork," she murmured, tone affectionate. She inched forward in her seat until she was sitting practically at the edge of her chair, her knees touching his leg. She released Owen's hand, only to bring both of hers up and cup his face. For a brief time that was all she did, taking in every little detail she could. That little voice was still screaming at her, saying that she needed to create some distance immediately, but it felt a lot further away. How long had she wanted to do this? Too long.
She didn't feel so anxious anymore. She was content to trace her fingers over his skin, her thumb briefly moving along his jawline and curving over his lip before she finally leaned in. Her lips grazed over his, barely there and waiting to see how he'd react.