of himself. What in the hell?
My heart pounded, threatening to punch its way out of my chest. I can’t believe this is happening. The feel of his hand on my knee broke my paralysis, and my mouth moved against his.
That was all the permission he needed. He pulled me onto his lap, which put our faces at an equal height. I gripped his shoulders, needing to steady myself. My lips parted, and when his tongue delved into my mouth to sweep against mine, I moaned. Carson was such a good kisser. I knew he would be.
He wrapped one arm around me, and his other hand skated up my rib cage, his splayed fingers brushing the underside of my breast. Though my skin was separated from his by my shirt, heat shot to my core. My body trembled, the fire inside me having gone from nonexistent to an inferno in mere seconds.
Stilling, Carson abruptly stopped kissing me. “Oh, shit.” Pure terror filled his eyes.
No, no, no… I wanted to pull his face back to mine, to rewind to a few seconds ago, to replay the kiss again and again. But the inferno running through my blood turned to ice, because now we were at the part where he apologized and told me he really was drunk. I squeezed my eyes shut, not able to bear seeing that look in his eyes, the one that signified he regretted kissing me. With a sob, I tried to jerk away, but his arm was still wrapped tightly around me, holding me on his lap.
“I’m sorry. Oh, God, Becca, I’m sorry.” He sounded pained.
Here we go. I turned my face away so at least he wouldn’t see my tears. I felt so stupid, beyond humiliated. I’d been trying unsuccessfully to put distance between us, but now I would be forced to. I wouldn’t be able to face him after this. The trouble was that I’d wondered for years what it would be like to kiss Carson. Too bad the reality was way better than I’d ever imagined. So while my curiosity was satisfied, my desire for him had only grown.
Carson put his fingers under my chin and tried to turn my face toward his. “Becca, please look at me. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” My voice was so hoarse, I barely recognized it.
“The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.”
No, I silently corrected. Apparently, the last thing you ever want to do is kiss me. When was I going to get it through my thick skull that my feelings were one-sided? Carson had hurt me, but I couldn’t blame him for that. I’d never told anyone, especially not him, how I felt. If he’d known how one little kiss would gut me, he would have been more careful to prevent whatever had come over him. What the hell had come over him?
“Why?” I asked. “Why did you kiss me? Why would you do that to me?”
“Becca, I’m sorry.” His voice was thick. “The whole time you were out tonight, I couldn’t stop wishing you were with me.”
“Why?” I asked again.
“I’ve always wanted it to be me. I was just too stupid to realize—”
“You’re not stupid,” I said automatically.
“About you I am. I just wish it could be me.”
I finally met his gaze. “What are you talking about? You wish what could be you?”
“I wish I could be with you.”
I stared at him, waiting for the bottom to drop out. But his expression was more serious than I’d ever seen it. Closing my eyes, I exhaled slowly. In my mind, I replayed hundreds of conversations and interactions, especially the ones from the past month. I’d always thought there was a spark between us, but when nothing had ever come of it, I’d written it off as being all my imagination. But what if it wasn’t? What if we’d both just been so incredibly and terribly stupid?
I opened my eyes and studied this man I had loved since he was a boy. Misery and utter confusion colored his face.
Be brave, Becca.
“What if you could be with me?”
CHAPTER 15
Carson
SHE DIDN’T HAVE to tell me twice. I covered her mouth with mine, moving so quickly, she gasped in surprise. It only took her a moment to recover, though, and she gave as good as she was getting. Her tongue battled mine, like she was unleashing years of pent-up aggression. I knew I was. I’d been so stupid for so long, not seeing what was right in front