my head back, and he takes this chance to lean forward and kiss my throat.
“Fireworks at Disney?” I make fun of him.
“What?” he says, looking at me. His eyes are a soft amber color. “Whenever something amazing happens, they ask you what are you going to do now?” His hands go to my waist. “And every single time, it’s I’m going to Disney. Well, you are my Disney.”
My hand moves to his face, and I touch him for the first time, rubbing my thumb along his bottom lip. “I’ll take it,” I guess. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t slam the door in my face,” he says, laughing. “Now, can we go out for breakfast?” He looks at me. “Or lunch?”
I look at him, and I take the biggest leap I have in a long time. “I’d love to go to brunch with you.”
“You can’t go out like this,” he says, looking down at my shorts and tank top.
“Fine,” I say, grabbing the coffee and then walking back to my room. “Do you want to come and watch?” I ask, and his eyes go wide. “I don’t mean me getting naked.” He frowns now. “I mean, come and choose my outfit.”
He nods, and I wait for him to walk beside me. He puts his arm around my shoulder as we walk back to the bedroom. “Welcome to my bedroom,” I say, and he whistles when he walks in. “You can sit on the couch.” I point at the loveseat right in front of the king-size bed.
“What if I wanted to lie on the bed and smell your pillow?” He winks at me.
“You can lie on the bed, just don’t put your shoes on the bed,” I tell him and walk away as he watches me.
“I won’t put my shoes on the bed,” he says, and I look over my shoulder. “But one of these days, my shoes are going to be under this bed,” he says, throwing my cover over to sit on it as I swallow around the lump in my throat. He plops down on the bed, grabbing a couple of pillows to prop behind his head. “Now, start the fashion show.”
Chapter 22
Miller
Sitting on her bed, I swear she can hear the sound of my heart hammering in my chest. It echoes in my ears. The team opted to fly through the night to get home a day early, so I crawled into bed at five a.m., setting my alarm for eight, knowing I was going to try to get her to talk to me.
Showing up with the coffee was a chance I took. I didn’t set my hopes high. In fact, I thought she would slam the door in my face. When she opened the door, I almost forgot everything that I planned to tell her. The sleep was still in her eyes, and her hair piled and flipped to the side. I poured my heart out to her and held my breath while I waited for her to either kick me out or take another chance with me.
Now I’m in her bedroom waiting for her to get changed. I look around the white bedroom at the gold light hanging in the middle of the room. The king-size bed has a white duvet, and a gray quilt is folded by the foot. My eyes move to her white and gray nightstand that holds a single gold lamp with a white shade, and a picture of two people holding a baby. “Where are we going?” she asks from her closet.
“Wherever you want to,” I say to her as she walks out wearing black jeans and a white shirt. “What happened to my fashion show?” I put my hands behind my head. “First, you had to start with the lingerie.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “Nice try there.” She goes to her bathroom, and I get up to follow her. She stands by the sinks, grabbing her toothbrush, and looks into the mirror at me. “Are you going to watch?”
“Does that bother you?” I lean against the doorframe. “Voyeurism.”
“Are you asking me if it bothers me that you are watching me brush my teeth?” She turns to lean against the counter. “Or are you asking me to have sex with someone in front of you?”
I glare at her. “I don’t share what’s mine.” I put my hand in my pocket. “I failed that in kindergarten,” I tell her, and she turns back around to brush