Iwas going with Charli back to her place, something I’d never dreamed possible. I tried to calm down, needing to control my heart rate; it was beating faster than during any workout I’d ever attempted.
As I slid into the cab first so she didn’t have to slide across, I scolded myself. The only thing on the menu was hot cocoa, and I wasn’t such a big fan of the stuff anyway.
In the dim light of the cab, I studied Charli’s features. She looked unsure of herself, unsettled. Not with the choice to invite me over, I didn’t think, but more with what my intentions were. She’d met me at the restaurant to tell me she liked me the way I was, and I was a totally different person when she arrived.
Hoping to soothe her, I reached for her hand, engulfing her gloved fingers in mine, and relief passed over her features. Mission accomplished.
In front of her building, I handed the driver a wad of cash and we ran toward the door. She fell into my shoulder as she punched in the security code to the building, and sparks flew in the air, floating with the flurries. I wrapped my arm around her as she led the way to her unit.
I wasn’t sure why I was so giddy. I lived in California and she lived in New York. This couldn’t go anywhere, even if she wanted me. The old me or the new one, it really didn’t matter. We were just too damn far apart.
“Come in.” Charli broke the silence as we stepped inside her loft, hanging her coat on a rack and reaching for mine. She stepped out of her heeled boots, leaving her feet in pink socks with red hearts, and her height cut by two or three inches.
“Want me to take off my boots?”
“That’d be great,” she said over her shoulder, walking toward a small kitchen area and flicking on the lights.
The place was basically one open living area decorated in various shades of purple and cream. I assumed a bedroom and a bathroom must be tucked somewhere in the back. I glanced around, impressed; even a California boy like me knew that for New York standards, the place was posh.
When she pulled a can from the cabinet and asked if I liked milk or water with my hot chocolate, I said, “Why don’t you make some for yourself? I’m actually not a huge fan.”
“Oh.” Quickly regrouping, she stuck her head in the fridge. “I have beer, water, wine, but no soda.”
“I’m good.”
Not meeting my eyes, she busied herself, leaving a mug of water in the microwave to heat as she pulled out a tea bag. I came up behind her and caged her against the counter, my hands splayed on the counter and my front to her back. I wasn’t forcing it; she could move if she wanted, but she didn’t.
I ran my nose down her cheek and breathed deeply, trying to control the fire raging inside me on this cold winter’s night. We stilled for a long moment, not speaking, me soaking her in through all my senses.
“I like you, Charli,” I said softly, and I immediately wanted to take back my words. Rejection ran through my veins. It had happened before, and I didn’t think my blood was still tainted with it. But it was.
She stared at the counter, her dark blond hair cascading forward around her face, the nape of her neck in plain view. Unable to resist, I kissed it, ran my lips over her skin like I had every right. Some type of urgency prompted me to touch her. Feel her. Inhale her. Do it all before she pushed back.
“I want you in the worst way,” I admitted. “Ever since you sat next to me on the plane, my thoughts are a traffic jam of you. I think of you at the premiere in red. The way your fingers held chopsticks over sushi. My imagination runs wild, visualizing you reading my e-mails at work, in bed, or on your phone. Your smile. My head is like the 405 at rush hour when it comes to you. You’re in my head, and I never wanted to be stuck in traffic so badly.”
“Layton,” she whispered.
I lifted one hand from the counter and swiped her hair away from her profile. Just a breath away from her cheek, I noted the tiny crinkle next to her eye, the swipe of glitter on her cheek, and the small mole next to her ear.
“Please don’t push me away,” I begged.
“Layton.” Another whisper. “How can you want me? With how it ended last time? And how will you ever know that I really wanted you before you were a sexy god?” The side of her mouth turned up in a small smile.
“Turn around.”
“No.”
“You think I’m a sexy god?”
“I do.”
“Turn around.”
She twisted in my arms, but her gaze dropped to my chest. A tiny crease appeared between her brows when she said softly, “How will you ever believe that I’d come to realize I liked the old you?”
“It doesn’t matter, Charli. I’m still me, and you’re here and I want you so bad.”
“Kiss me.” Her words were soft, breathy, and her eyelashes fluttered the slightest bit over her half-lidded eyes.
