is twisted in apology. “Sorry about that.”
“I’m sure you’re real sorry.”
“I am. Wayne was being a dick. Were you there?”
“No.”
“Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Sophie made it sound like you were.”
“Sophie’s a lying, conniving witch. She wanted you the entire time. She made it so Trevor was right next to me when you got home. I didn’t do that on purpose.”
“I told you about her.” He closes his eyes in anger. When he opens them they’re once again calm. “You want anything else?”
“I want you—us to stop drinking. No more drinking. I don’t even like it and I’ve been doing it like crazy.”
“Done. I haven’t had a drink since I got arrested.”
“What happened?”
“Wayne dropped the charges after my dad wrote him a check.”
“Spoiled brat.”
He shrugs. “I feel kind of spoiled right now.” He presses me into the mattress to kiss me. “Is that all you want?”
“For right now.” I hug him to me hard. When I lift my arm to grasp his back, my shoulder catches his attention.
“You got a tattoo?” He frowns at it as he traces it. “Who’re you falling for?”
“It was a reminder to never fall for anyone again.”
His eyes sadden. “You really thought we were done?”
The reminder is still fresh. “I’m still not sure.”
“What do I have to do to prove to you you’re all I want? Do I have to marry you? Do I have to spend forever proving it, because I will?”
“I like forever.” Please don’t ask me to marry you.
“Would you marry me if I asked?” Psychic bastard.
“Yes, so don’t ask. We’re barely getting back together and we have so much stuff to work on. What do you want from me?”
“I want you to trust me. I don’t want to hear stuff like I’m still not sure. I want to know when I’m not with you you’re not thinking yourself crazy. You have to trust me.”
“I’ll work on it, I promise. What else?”
“Don’t be afraid to be happy. I want to make you happy.”
“You do make me happy.” I look down but he lifts my chin back up. “But you make me sad a lot also. All of the other women, the uncertainty, the games we play. I don’t want to play games anymore.”
“Me neither. Even though you lost,” he teases, still not letting his true self go.
“I’m not the one who got kicked in the face.”
“I got kicked in the face! No wonder my face killed. Where’s your phone?”
“Becca has it. She changed my number.”
“That’s another thing I want. I know you love your sister. I don’t want to get in the way, but you have to start speaking up to her. You have to tell her how you feel and what you want and accept she might not enjoy every choice you make.”
“She’ll never like you.”
“We’ll deal with it.”
“I’ll talk to her. But she’s so scary,” I whisper, making him chuckle.
“You’re telling me.” He sags down, taking me with him. As he does he traces my tattoo. “You’re kind of a badass now. It’s turning me on.”
“Sex?” I pop up, suddenly excited.
He laughs and reaches over to tuck my stringy hair behind my ear. “Don’t you want to talk some more?”
“No.”
“At all?”
“Not right now.” I splay my hands on his chest. “I want you right now, Kent.”
He drops his hands and lays them at his sides. “Then come get me, baby.”
Without further prompting I straddle him and find his mouth. I kiss this man as deeply as a person can, this slow intense kind of kiss I feel all the way in my toes. They curl up against his thighs. His hands reach up and cup my backside, gently squeezing and pushing me against his erection. The contact is a light in a room full of gasoline.
We both erupt.
I delve my fingers in his hair and take his mouth fervently. I pour all of my emotions into my lips, so he knows exactly how I felt and how he’s making me feel now. For the first time in what seems like forever I feel alive again. I am heat and fire beneath his fingertips. His hands reach under my shirt and slowly inch up my back. His skin on my skin makes me shiver. I lift up so he can take my shirt off and fall back onto his lip. I am falling again. This time I am not afraid. Not falling is a lot scarier.
Not having this is more frightening than the fear of losing it.
By the