Not You It's Me (Boston Love #1) - Julie Johnson Page 0,94
to redden.
“Well, I don’t have anything prepared right this second! But I’ll think of something. Eventually.”
“Sunshine.” He starts to laugh, his whole frame shaking with mirth. “We really need to work on your negotiation skills.”
“It’s not my fault! I can’t concentrate with you looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“All gorgeous and chiseled and dreamy.”
“Dreamy?”
“Yes!” I glare at him. “It makes my head foggy and then I get tongue tied and my cheeks get red and…and…”
The words dry up on my tongue as my eyes move over his handsome features.
“You forgot what you were gonna say again, didn’t you?” He grins, cocky at his effect on me.
I smack him on the arm. “I don’t like you.”
“I beg to differ.” He leans in, burying his head in the crook of my neck. “In fact, in the last hour, you told me several different times just how much you liked me. Very loudly, I might add.”
My blush intensifies. “Oh, go to your stupid gala alone, you big brute.”
He pulls back to look at me, the humor fading from his eyes. “You don’t have to come, if you don’t want to. I know it’s asking a lot.”
I reach up and run my hands through the hair by his temple, enjoying the sensation of the silky strands against my palm almost as much as the fact that touching him is starting to feel as natural as breathing.
“If it means spending time with you, I’ll go. Even if I have to deal with the paparazzi and make small talk with your family.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m tougher than I look.” I flex my bicep playfully.
“Oh, really?”
“Yep.” I grin, lowering my voice to a whisper. “I’m so badass, sometimes I don’t even safely eject my USB drives — I just whip them out of the computer and shove them back in my desk.”
“Wow,” Chase breathes, his eyes wide. “Living life on the edge.”
“That’s nothing.” I struggle to maintain my faux-serious tone. “Sometimes, I completely ignore the TEAR HERE label, and I open the chip bag upside-down.”
“Say it isn’t so!”
“Oh, yeah.” It’s getting harder and harder to keep a straight face. “And occasionally, at the grocery store when they have those little sample tables out, I pretend not to see the TAKE ONE sign… and I take two.”
“My little rebel,” he says, grinning as he pulls me close. I bury my face in his neck and let him hold me, for a while, until the humor has faded from my bloodstream and my heart has slowed to match Chase’s steady, metronomic beats. I’m so relaxed, I’ve almost fallen asleep, when the rumble of his voice snaps my eyes open.
“You have to be sure.”
I pause, considering his words, and he rolls me gently onto my back so he can see my face.
“If we do this,” he whispers. “If you go with me…”
I wait breathlessly for him to finish, my eyes trapped by his steady gaze.
“It’ll be making a statement that we’re together,” he says bluntly. “That this — you and me — is really happening.”
I inhale sharply.
“Are you ready for that?” His words are an intent whisper. “Are you ready for the world to know you’re mine?”
I open my mouth automatically, fully prepared to deny his words.
I’m not yours. I’m not anybody’s.
The words are there, on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t voice them. Because I know, staring at this beautiful man in front of me, that I’d do anything he asked, just as he’d do anything I asked of him. And that means I’m his, as surely as he’s mine.
So, instead of throwing the words in his face, as I would’ve only days ago, I take a deep breath and say a sentence that surprises even myself.
“I’m ready, Chase.”
He kisses me, then, all tenderness lost as his hands slide up my back and across my naked skin. And even though we’re short on time and my heart’s beating like hell inside my chest, we waste another hour beneath the covers together, laughing and loving and proving just how sweet it feels to belong to each other.
***
“Jesus Christ, Gemma, the security in this place is ridiculous. It’s like Fort Fucking Knox in here!” Shelby grins at me, then winks at Knox, who’s hovering behind her with his typical stony expression in place. “Puns intended, of course.”
I snort. “Not your best material, Shelbs.”
“Oh, whatever. You try shopping for three hours — not even for yourself, I might add — then lugging the entire contents of your closet across town, then