“You’re forgiven,” I promised. “I’m sorry for what I said too. About running away.”
“Forgiven.” He kissed the word against my lips. “Are you ready to go back inside or did you want to get out of here?”
I wanted more than anything to get out of there, but I didn’t want to have gotten dressed up for nothing. Letting one of my hands slide down his side, I searched out his hand and twined our fingers together.
“Let’s go eat,” I suggested, and he nodded, small smile on his face while leading me back to our table.
We were hardly situated when the waitress came by to take our order, but I hadn’t even had a chance to look at the menu yet. Colin ordered for us, undoubtedly to make up for the delay, then he stretched his hand out for me again, just like when we’d first sat down.
I took his hand and plucked at the collar of my shirt.
“Is it too much?” I asked, walking back as much of the night as I could manage.
Colin gave me a quiet laugh and a small shake of his head.
“It’s perfect,” he said, candlelight reflecting off his eyes. “You’re perfect.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
Colin
My heart hadn’t slowed downfrom the instant I’d seen Miles in the doorway to hours later when Wesley stood confident on mine.
“Is it okay if I stay the night?” he asked.
“Always,” I assured him.
He followed me inside and locked the door behind us, kicking off his shoes and using his socked feet to arrange them neatly beside the plant stand that held a sword fern and my keys.
“I know earlier I said…” Wesley trailed off, the self-assurance that normally rolled off of him in waves dissipating by the second.
“You said you loved me,” I reminded.
Warmth spread through my chest as his cheeks darkened and he smiled, giving me a small nod.
“I said I was falling in love with you,” he whispered, flicking his stare toward my face. “But it feels like the same thing, I think.”
I swallowed.
“I meant the other part, though. I said I wanted…”
I slipped an arm around his waist and hauled him toward me. Our chests collided and he jutted his chin out, staring down the length of his nose at me, the way he always did when we were close enough to share breaths.
“We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”
“I am ready for it,” he said, fingers fidgeting at the button on the front of my pants. “I’m beyond ready for it.”
His skin was soft and warm, palms clammy as he made contact with my stomach and my waist, reaching into my pants for my dick. With his hands on me, it was hard to think, near impossible to speak. I let him walk me back against the wall, lips pressed against the side of my neck while he mapped the soft curves of my stomach and my waist with his fingers.
I believed him when he said he was ready. I only paused to wonder if I was. Though, why shouldn’t I be? I’d waited long enough to allow myself the things I wanted, and even though I hadn’t told Wesley that I loved him too, I was sure I did. What else could the complicated and beautiful feelings that lived in the base of my throat be if not love for the man in front of me?
Love was scarier than sex, it seemed, and I so desperately wanted to be ready for this.
For him.
“Take me to bed,” he whispered, licking against the shell of my ear. “Take me to bed and talk to me.”
“Talk about what?”
