Chapter 13 This Is What a Kiss Feels Like

The car was silent except for the faint hum of the engine. The dim overhead light cast a soft glow, creating an intimate cocoon that seemed to exist outside of time and space. His lips moved against mine with a deliberate slowness, as though he had all the time in the world to unravel me. It wasn't just a kiss—it was a lesson, a claim, and a test of my endurance all at once. My heart pounded so hard I was afraid it might burst through my chest.

His hand on my waist tightened slightly, pulling me closer, and I felt the heat of his palm even through the fabric of my dress. My body responded instinctively, arching into his touch, as though it had been waiting for this moment all along. The scent of him—clean, crisp, with a hint of something musky—wrapped around me like a spell, making it impossible to think of anything else.

I didn't know how long the kiss lasted. Seconds? Minutes? It felt like an eternity and yet not nearly enough. When he finally pulled back, his lips hovered near mine, his breath warm against my skin. My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself staring into his dark, intense gaze. His pupils were slightly dilated, and there was a flicker of something raw and unguarded in his expression—a vulnerability I had never seen before.

"Shen Jibai..." I whispered, my voice trembling. I wasn't sure what I wanted to say. Thank you? Don't stop? I'm sorry? None of those seemed right, and yet all of them felt true.

He didn't respond immediately. Instead, his thumb brushed against my cheek, a tender gesture that sent another shiver down my spine. "Do you understand now?" he asked softly, his voice low and steady, but with an undercurrent of something I couldn't quite place. Possessiveness? Restraint? Desire?

I nodded wordlessly, my throat too tight to speak. My lips still tingled from the kiss, and my mind was spinning, trying to process what had just happened. Was this real? Did I imagine it? And if it was real, what did it mean? Did he feel the same way I did, or was this just another moment of kindness from a man who was always so maddeningly composed?

As if sensing my turmoil, he leaned back slightly, giving me space to breathe. But his hand remained on my waist, anchoring me to him. "You've been acting strange lately," he said, his tone soft but probing. "What's going on, Lili?"

My heart skipped a beat at the sound of my name on his lips. The way he said it—low and intimate—made it feel like a secret only the two of us shared. I hesitated, unsure of how to answer. Should I tell him the truth? That I had been hopelessly, stupidly in love with him for years? That every time he looked at me or touched me, it felt like the ground was shifting beneath my feet? That I had spent the past few days agonizing over whether or not he could ever see me as more than just a silly girl who couldn't even solve a math problem without his help?

"I..." I began, but the words caught in my throat. My courage faltered under the weight of his gaze, and I looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "It's nothing. I just... I've been feeling a little off lately."

"Lili," he said, his voice firmer now, as though he could see right through my lie. His hand moved from my waist to my chin, gently tilting my face back toward him. "Look at me."

I forced myself to meet his gaze, my cheeks burning. His expression was unreadable, but there was a hint of frustration in his eyes, as though he was trying to solve a puzzle and I was the missing piece. "You're not telling me the truth," he said quietly. "Why?"

Because I'm scared. Because I don't want to ruin whatever this is. Because I don't know if I can handle it if you reject me. The words swirled in my mind, but I couldn't bring myself to say them out loud. Instead, I shook my head, a weak attempt to deflect.

He sighed, his thumb brushing against my jawline in a way that made my heart ache. "You're always like this," he murmured, more to himself than to me. "Always hiding, always running away. Do you think I don't notice?"

My breath hitched at his words. Did he really notice? Did he understand just how much he affected me? Or was he talking about something else entirely? Before I could overthink it, he leaned in again, his lips brushing against my forehead in a gesture so tender it brought tears to my eyes.

"Rest," he said softly, his voice like a balm to my frayed nerves. "We'll talk later, when you're ready."

With that, he straightened up and stepped back, leaving me feeling both relieved and bereft. The warmth of his presence lingered, but the absence of his touch was like a cold wind cutting through me. He closed the car door gently, and I watched as he exchanged a few quiet words with the driver before walking away, his figure disappearing into the night.

I sat there in stunned silence, my fingers brushing against my lips as if to confirm that the kiss had really happened. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, longing, hope, fear. What had I just done? And what did it mean for us moving forward?

As the car pulled away, I leaned back against the seat, my thoughts racing. One thing was certain: Shen Jibai wasn't just a passing crush or a fleeting infatuation. He was the kind of man who could change my entire world with a single glance, a single touch, a single kiss.

And I wasn't sure if I was ready for that—but I knew I couldn't walk away now. Not when he had already claimed a piece of my heart.