“What happened?”
“I thought my ex and I had more in common than we did.”
“That why it ended?”
“I just don’t think we loved each other all that much. I broke it off when it occurred to me that, like, in a fire, I wasn’t sure if he’d come back to grab me or his PlayStation.”
What the hell? “Are you serious?” The desire to hunt this guy down immediately and beat the crap out of him is sudden and shocking.
At her nod, I tamp down the unexpected flash of violence. “I’m sorry, Rae.” I reach out and push a curl behind her ear.
“It’s all right. I’m much better off without him.” She shivers, and I realize how cold it’s gotten.
“Here, move up.”
She scoots toward me, and I edge forward to the middle of the boat, drawing the blankets tighter around us. I bend into the little cave we’ve made and breathe. “You smell so good.”
She exhales. I inhale. Our breath mingles between us, whiskey and smoke and her toothpaste.
“Were you about to head to bed when I knocked?”
“Yeah.” A sigh. “No regrets.”
“Hey. Why’d you leave during my song tonight?”
Her breath catches. I wait for a heartbeat, another.
“It made me emotional.”
“Sinatra?”
“You, Grant. It wasn’t kinky. It wasn’t sexy. It wasn’t work-related. It was just… you.”
I swallowhard, no idea what to say.
“I know you’re moving on soon. I get it. I mean, given your past and…” Her eyes are shining when they meet mine. I really hate the idea of being responsible for putting the tears there. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with you. I didn’t mean to.” She shrugs those sweet, round shoulders, and I have to fight very hard against the urge to wrap her up in my arms, keep her safe, and give her every last thing she wants. Even if that thing is me. Not just now, but always. Forever.
And then, she looks up at me, the sheen of tears overflowing into two thin tracks bisecting her cheeks, and there’s this moment… or realization… or premonition—I don’t fucking know. Just this feeling that if I don’t take care of this woman the way she deserves… If I don’t take on the burden and the… the…the honor of her tears, her emotion, and all that love; if I don’t make them mine, right this minute, then I am not the man I was meant to be. That’s the feeling.
I’ve got no fucking clue how to express it. All I can do is lean in and kiss her.
CHAPTER SIXTY
Rae
HIS LIPS ARE COOL, his tongue hot. The kiss is slow, warm syrup.
It’s different from before. No power exchange, no flirting. It’s a kiss. Just a kiss.
Except not. At. All.
It’s a kiss the way the Sistine Chapel is a painting. Yes, it’s lips and tongues sliding together, but there’s more than technique involved. There’s something deeper. Understanding or artistry, or a sensitivity that I’ve never experienced before. Maybe it’s our connection that makes it so much more.
He changes the angle, licks deeper, and I’m slammed with lust. Only it’s not the adventurous lust I’ve experienced with him before. It’s not sneaky or taboo oroh-my-god-get-in-me.
It hurts. That’s the kind of want I’m feeling. Want that’s like pain because it’s from somewhere deeper than I’m used to, and what we have will be over at some point, and just knowing that feels tragic and wrong.
A little sound escapes me as I shuffle forward to get more. Grant urges me onto his lap, and then the lust takes over, bigger, deeper, more urgent than anything we’ve done, and I’m scared.
