The rest of the ride to her apartment is silent as dread and excitement feud within me. I pull into her apartment parking lot, and she directs me to her building, where I find a spot and turn off my vehicle. Out of the corner of my eye, Maggie shifts in her seat to face me as if this will be our goodbye.
I hope she knows I’m walking her to her apartment.
“Ian, thank you for this weekend.” Her voice is soft. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much this has meant to me.”
My fingers thread through her hair, my palm settling on the back of her head. I drag her face up to meet mine, and she releases a low moan when our lips meet, gripping the wrist of the hand holding her to me. I don’t know how many more days it’ll be before I can do this again, so I take my time. Tasting her. Savoring her. Her tongue toys with mine, and I deepen this kiss even more, not caring we’re in the middle of the parking lot.
I don’t want to, but I reluctantly release her when she shifts and pulls back.
She grins up at me. “I really hope I hear from you again, Ian.”
I run my thumb over her bottom lip. “I can promise you that. Sooner than you think.” Dropping my hand, I move to open the door. “Come on, let me walk you to your apartment so we can do that one more time before I leave you.”
6
Maggie
One month later - July
Ian: Mags. Please tell me you’re home.
Me: Yep! Are you coming over?
Ian: Fuck yes.
Me: Yay! Can you bring me a coffee?
Ian: It’s almost six at night?
Me: And…your point??
Ian: …I’ll be there soon. With coffee. And dinner.
A thought occurs to me, and I run to the fridge tomake sure I have the ingredients I need. I was planning on doing this later in the week, but today is perfect.
Me: Don’t bring dinner. I’m going to make it.
Immediately, dots appear.
Ian: Be still my heart. A fine as fuck woman who’s amazing in the bedroom AND in the kitchen? I can die a happy man.
Me: Okay, well, maybe hold off on that compliment until after you eat my cooking. I make no guarantees about the quality.
Ian: Don’t worry. If the food is horrible, I know something else I can eat.
I can’t fight the smile that splits my face and the blush that floods my cheeks, and I don’t want to fight it. Ever since our weekend together, Ian’s been coming to my apartment, or I’ve been going to his house every night. The sex has been mind-blowing, but it’s the time between the sex that I’m still in shock about getting to experience. Before moving here, I was convinced this kind of connection was made up. That the people who claimed to find it were lying.
I’m beginning to think that I was the one who was wrong. Because the way I feel around Ian is something I only dreamed of. Or read about. I don’t want to get my hopes up, but I think he feels the same way.
I enter my bedroom to change into something comfortable, excited about the evening and what I hope the future ahead of me holds.
An hour later, Ian knocks loudly on my door. When I pull it open, my breath catches in my throat. He’s dressed inbaggy gym shorts and a T-shirt with the sleeves cut off, exposing a vast amount of his rippling muscles. He smells faintly of sweat, but not in an unpleasant way. In a way that has my mouth watering and my panties wet.
He hands me my coffee before he plucks at his T-shirt. “Sorry, I came straight from a workout with the guys. Figured I could shower here.”
It’s then that I notice a duffle bag in his other hand. “That’s good with me. I don’t mind you a little sweaty.” I bite my lip as he enters my apartment with a wolfish grin spreading across his handsome face. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
Turning to me, he gently pulls me in for a long kiss that weakens my knees.
