Making Love (Destiny Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

couldn’t be bothered to spend hours on my hair.
    I was utilitarian. He was some kind of reborn Greek God.
    This little crush was so not going to end well for me, but what could I do about it?
    Maybe Katie’s next study would be on eradicating love. Hey, if science was going to manufacture it, I could only hope that it might also find a way to end it and save me from my predicament.
    Truly though, he was just such a sweet guy, not at all full of himself or vain as you might expect, so I had a feeling that I might feel this way about him even without this experiment.
    “Do you wax your chest?” I suddenly asked as we took our seats again.
    His amused expression made me feel like an idiot. “Uh, only if a film requires it, which is very rare, thankfully. It’s not pleasant. But then, I probably don’t have to tell you that.” 
    Why did I ask that? See, this was one of those un-poised things I did, sometimes if I thought it, I just said it.
    “Why?” he asked.
    “I don’t know.” How could I tell him the truth, that I really didn’t like snuggling with men who shaved their chests? I mean, it’s not like I had a hair fetish and wanted someone who looked like he was wearing Tom Jones’ chest wig, just… natural. Like me, I guess.
    “Uh huh,” his tone said that he didn’t believe me but luckily, he didn’t press the issue. “Ready to move on?”
    “Sure.”
    We both turned to page four, expecting it to be more questions but instead it was a small paragraph of text.
    “This part is optional,” he read. “Stare into your partner’s eyes for four minutes, using the clock to time yourselves. This is not a staring contest, you can blink but try maintain eye contact and not look away, no matter how uncomfortable you feel. Please do not talk during the four minutes.”
    Wow, this was going to be super awkward.
    We shared a nervous smile.
    “I’m game,” he told me.
    Well, it would be uncomfortable, but probably bearable. And while we could refuse, Katie was a friend and I didn’t want to hurt her study.
    “Okay.”
    He reached out, his finger hovering over the clock, and we both stared at it, as of it held the answers to the meaning of life. The truth however, is that I suspect we were both avoiding each other’s gaze until the last moment.
    “Three, two,” he counted down and I braced myself to break societal norms. “One.”
    We looked at each other, awkward smiles on our faces to begin with, but they quickly faded as it went from uncomfortable, to excruciating. This wasn’t normal, not something normal people did, unless you were competing in a staring challenge. For some reason, the competitive edge of such contests made it okay.
    I was allowed to blink though, and had to remind myself to or I would never last thirty seconds, let alone four minutes.
    Slowly it became less intrusive and more personal. We both offered shy smiles again, but they were genuine this time. That feeling also faded, and I focused on his irises. They were not as blue as I initially thought, they were more a sort of steal grey, with a slightly darker rim. There were no flecks that my many romance books spoke of, and although there were slight variations in colour, there weren’t many, and the flecks (if that’s what they were) were too small to distinguish.
    Was I imagining it, or were his pupils getting larger? That was a sign of attraction right? It was so hard to tell if they were though.
    As for me, I felt naked before him, as if he could see into my soul and was reading my every thought. Which was silly, but I wouldn’t have felt more vulnerable if I’d been sitting here naked.
    Why did we see eyes like that, as windows on the soul? Touch was surely more intimate than most glances, but we didn’t call the skin the window to the soul. And really, the eyes were just receptor cells which were attached to nerves, no different than receptors in our skin, or our noses, or mouths, they simply processed light rather than