Still The One - Carrie Elks Page 0,101

Tanner Xx

She stared at the kisses for way longer than was healthy, trying to read the meaning of them. She’d see him tonight and the anticipation was already killing her.

Some old habits died hard. Tanner couldn’t bring himself to knock on her front door. Instead, he tapped on her bedroom window, his jaw set, his eyes soft, his body ready to be close to her again. The days without her had been like a special kind of torture. Yet it had been necessary. Logan was right about that.

As kids it had felt like Van and Tanner shared a brain sometimes. He assumed she thought the same way as he did. Heck, sometimes he really believed she could read his mind. And when he fell in love with her as an eighteen-year-old, he’d thought it would be easy. They didn’t need to talk, they just knew.

But that was bullshit. Had been then, still was now. She had her own thoughts, her own needs, her own feelings. And as much as he wanted to know every single one of them, they were hers, and she got to decide whether to share them or not.

Her face appeared at the window, and his breath caught in his throat. Would he always feel this kind of reaction when he saw her? His eyes were drawn to her lips, soft and pink. God, he was aching to kiss her.

You need to talk. The thought sounded a lot like Logan. It made him want to laugh. Van opened the window, holding the curtain aside as he climbed inside.

“Hi.” He looked down at her. She must have recently showered. Her hair was damp, tumbling in waves over her shoulder. Her skin was shining, freshly scrubbed clean. She was wearing a pair of soft jersey shorts and a t-shirt, and right now she looked more like eighteen than twenty-eight. “You look beautiful.”

“Shut up. I’m a mess.”

He grinned because it was so damn good to hear her voice. “Not to me. I want to take a photo of you and make it my phone wallpaper.”

“If you do that, I’ll castrate you.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Just sayin’.”

Christ, he was in love with her. He leaned forward, brushing his lips against her ear. “Sorry, babe, but I’m rather partial to my balls.”

Her eyes darkened, and she turned her face almost imperceptibly toward his. Only an inch more and their lips would touch. He could feel the blood pulsing through him, hot and needy.

You need to talk.

Shut up, Logan! He shook his head to get the voice out of his brain. But it was right. So damn right. They were adults, not kids. He had control of his body, even if all he wanted to do was give into it.

“How’s Zoe?” he asked, in an attempt to bring things back on track.

“She’s okay. Gone to bed early. She’s heading to the pool with some friends tomorrow.” Her lips curled at the thought of her sister, and he wanted to kiss them again. He curled his hands into fists to stop himself.

“And your mom? Have you heard from her?”

“You know she’s gone away?”

He shrugged. “Becca told me. I was surprised when I heard it. I never thought she’d go to rehab.”

“Me either.” Her eyes met his. “But she’s there.” She shrugged. “We get to see her next weekend.”

“That’s good.” He glanced at her bed. It was a mistake. Because all the memories of touching her while in bed came flooding back. “Can we go to the kitchen to talk?” he asked her.

“Sure.” Her brows dipped. “Why?”

“Because if we stay in here I’m going to need to touch you.”

“What if I want to be touched?”

Her words sent a shot of desire through him that was almost impossible to ignore. And yet he had to. They needed to talk. He swallowed hard, trying to harness his willpower.

“You’re not making this easy,” he told her. “I’m really trying to be strong here.”

“I’ve missed you,” she said softly. The way she was looking at him almost killed him. There was a need in her eyes that reflected his own.

“Yeah.” His voice was strangled. “I’ve missed you, too.”

She reached out to cup his cheek, her fingers splaying across his rough skin. She stepped forward until her body pressed against his, and desire immediately shot through him.

He dropped his brow to hers, his lashes sweeping down as he stared at her. “Van…”

“I know,” she whispered. “But please kiss me first. I need to feel you. Then we can talk.”

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