“I was good at my old job,” I continued. “I didn’t expect to have to leave it so soon. I was too old toward the end, and now I’m too green. So, I have a little whiplash from going from one extreme to the other, I suppose.”
I stretched my arm along the wooden bench, wide enough not to touch Rachel’s shoulders, but I still felt the tingle of having her next to me.
I’d done a quick calculation of her age when she’d told me her sister’s and how old she’d been when she was born. She lookedyounger than thirty-three yet seemed like an old soul, most likely from having to grow up faster than she should have.
Maybe that was why it had been so easy to talk to her, leaving out the identifiable parts of my job but confessing the deep feelings and reservations I couldn’t express to anyone else.
“You’ll get it.” Rachel shifted toward me. “I’ll bet you have it more than you think already. A good friend once told me that impostors don’t get impostor syndrome. You care a lot. I can tell. So, there’s no way you’ll fail.”
She smiled, turning her head as the wind kicked up and blew a piece of hair across her face.
“You probably know better than me, being a writer and all.” Before I could help it, I tucked that stray lock of hair behind her ear and let my thumb skate over her jaw.
“You know why I write romance?” Her voice creaked before she cleared her throat. “The happily-ever-after is all part of the formula. It’s a given in every single story. There are a million different things that could happen along the way, all kinds of roadblocks. And even though you know it’s going to work out because of what it is, you’re afraid it won’t. In the end, it always does, and we become the people we’re supposed to be.”
Her gaze fell to the ground.
“Sometimes, when life off the page gets complicated, I like to think of it as buildup, a little angst to keep it interesting and make the payoff that much better. Getting stuck or things becoming hard is all part of the journey, and it always resolves. Eventually. It’s silly, I know.” Her shoulders shook with a laugh. “But it helps.”
“Not silly at all,” I said in a hoarse whisper. “Smart. From you, I could actually believe that.”
My eyes fell to her mouth, fixated on the way she chewed her bottom lip, something I’d begun to suspect was a nervous tell.
“I’m very passionate about storytelling. Even when I don’t punch random men as they stroll by.”
A nervous laugh slipped from her lips, but her smile faded.
I inched toward her as she drew closer, both of us moving almost in slow motion yet so fast I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to.
And I absolutely didn’t want to, despite how much of a bad idea it probably was and how it would only make parting ways that much worse. Especially if this was all I’d ever be able to get.
I let the pull between us close the last of the distance, and I pressed my mouth against hers.
Her body relaxed as she melted against me, slipping her arms around my neck and running her fingers through my hair as her lips parted on a moan. A growl erupted from my throat as I slipped my tongue inside. She tasted like coffee and something so sweet, I couldn’t get enough. I swallowed her whimpers as she pushed into me, pressing her beautiful body against mine and grabbing the back of my neck as the kiss went deeper.
Nothing was sweet about this kiss, at least not after the first couple of minutes. Something caught fire between us as our mouths fused together, confusing me but fueling me as we kept going.
Before I realized it, my hand was in her hair as I slanted my mouth over hers. The kiss became something too frantic and too hot to be taking place on a public bench.
She’d give a soft moan whenever I’d try to pull back, and it made me want more and go in harder and deeper. I’d been right about wanting more once I had a taste—more of whatever had drawn me to her on sight, more of what I couldn’t have because I had nothing to offer her past tonight.
We broke apart at a whistle behind us, her eyes hooded and hazy as they met mine. My heart hammered against my rib cage, already fixated on her mouth again, wet and swollen from my kisses.
“Wow,” she whispered, dragging her fingers down her lips. “I…I didn’t expect that.”
“Shit,” I whispered, my stomach bottoming out. We’d gravitated toward each other like magnets, but I still should have asked before I just went for it. I wasn’t like that, and I hated the thought of being too forward and ruining things tonight.
“I’m sorry if I?—”
“Oh no, I liked it. A lot. Just didn’t expect it.” She laughed and dropped her head into her hands, peeking up at me as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
“I liked it too,” I whispered. “A lot. Listen, how would you feel about coming back to the hotel with me?”
Her head jerked toward me, her eyes wide.
“We could stay by the bar and talk, or you could come up to my room. I wouldn’t ask for more than talking if that’s all you want. I just don’t want the night to end yet. But if you do, I’m happy to pay for a cab to get you home?—”
“Silas, I can’t date,” she blurted out. “I mean, I can, but my priority is my sister. And anything more than that right now…” She trailed off, rubbing her eyelids.
