We reluctantly break apart, both of our faces flushed, and he rests his forehead against mine with a sigh.
“We’d better go down there,” I whisper.
“I guess so,” he murmurs back before letting his arms fall away from my body. Despite the interruption, I smile when he takes my hand and leads me out of the room.
Chloe and I end up on salad duty, chopping vegetables to throw into the giant wooden bowl procured by Ben. I’ve just finished slicing the tomatoes when Wes appears at my shoulder, stealing one off my cutting board before planting a quick kiss against my temple. Color rises in my cheeks at the public display, but my heart expands at the unexpected attention from him.
“You and Wes are so cute together,” Chloe says, once he’s out of earshot. “How long have you been a couple?”
My blush deepens as a I fumble for the right words to explain our relationship. “Oh, um, we’re not really. I mean, not officially, I guess.”
Chloe looks stricken. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I guess I just assumed…”
“It’s okay,” I’m quick to assure, already wracking my brain for something to keep the conversation flowing. “How long have you known Ben?”
She shoots Wes’s housemate an affectionate look across the kitchen. “Since Kindergarten. We grew up in the same neighborhood.”
“Did you two ever date?”
She laughs a little, shaking her head. “No, never. We’re just really good friends. He’s like a brother, honestly. More than that would be weird.”
I chat more with Chloe while we prep, and once the salad’s done, I slip out onto the balcony to get another glimpse of the ocean. The temperature’s dropped with the setting sun, and a shiver wracks down my spine. I jump a little when strong arms wind around me from behind, shivering now for an entirely different reason.
Wes’s voice tickles my ear. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
I lean back against his body, letting his warm skin and hard muscle engulf me completely. “It is.”
We stand like that for a while before I turn in his arms, pressing my back to the railing and staring up into his handsome face. Feeling brave, I push up on my toes and plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “You’rebeautiful, you know,” I murmur.
He appears surprised by my openness, but hides it with a grin, pulling me into a tight hug. My skin warms as his body blocks the windchill. My heart warms, too, overflowing with affection for the man in front of me, and I focus on living fully in this moment.
So what if I haven’t slept soundly in weeks? So what if my Public Speaking grade is slipping? So what if I’m becoming reliant on Wes for peace of mind? For now, I suppress those worries and promise myself I’ll deal with them later. It might not be the healthiest way to approach my issues, but I already feel lighter. Brighter. Invigorated. And I want to focus all that renewed vitality on the man in front of me—the man who deserves my one hundred percent more than anything or anyone on this planet.
“Alright, love birds,” calls Ben, poking his head outside. “Stop being cute. It’s dinner time.”
We reluctantly break apart and head inside to eat the amazing meal prepared mostly by Ben, though we all helped a little. We spend the rest of the evening drinking and chatting, and it’s late by the time we call it a night, all of us retreating to our rooms. Wes is already in bed when I finish up in the bathroom, and I slide in beside him, relaxing beneath the cool sheets. It’s only our second official sleepover in weeks, but I fold into his open arm like it’s second nature and settle my cheek against his naked chest.
As I listen to the comforting thrum of his heartbeat, he traces patterns over my shoulder with his fingertips, and goosebumpsbreak out across my skin. I drape my arm across his abdomen, the muscles clenching at my touch, and flush with a sudden awareness of his body. Of the taut stomach beneath my hand, the hard pectoral beneath my cheek, the strong bicep supporting my head.
Taking a shaky breath, I peek up at him, only to find him regarding me with an intent expression. “Hey,” he whispers.
“Hi,” I whisper back, eyes locked with his. I see something swirling there, deep in their dark depths—something more powerful than affection and more potent than desire. I never dreamed that someone would look at me like this. Never thought there was even a remote possibility. This look, whatever it is, overwhelms my spirit but deeply calms my soul. Terrifies my mind but fills my body with intense longing.
This look iseverything.
He tilts his head down, so I tilt mine up, my eyes fluttering shut as our lips touch. The kiss is tentative at first, but the moment our tongues brush, we stop holding back. It deepens as his tongue strokes mine, over and over in a hypnotic rhythm, and my body starts to hum.
Shifting so we’re both on our sides, I press against him, needing more. Wanting more. His hand slides down my back to my waist, a hesitant graze like he’s unsure of what to touch, and his thick thigh nudges between my legs. It feels good, the pressure there easing the growing ache, and instead of retreating, I hitch my leg over his hip. I press closer, searching for more friction, more heat, moreeverything.
“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, and then his mouth is back on mine, passionate and intense and all-consuming. I kiss him back with everything I have, and his hand slips beneath my shirt, fingers tightening against my waist and pulling me closer.
I run my hand along the hard plains of his chest and the smooth muscle of his back, charting over warm skin. Mappingout his body in a way I haven’t done before. He feels incredible, every part of him, and my hips roll, grinding against his thigh. A whimper breaks free of my lips, and he groans in response, tugging my bottom lip between his teeth. I gasp, my stomach dipping as heat sears down my spine.
I feel needy. Frantic. Desperate to have him. I want clothes off, skin bare, and Wes’s body intertwined with mine. I want to know what that feels like. Whathefeels like.
I need to know.
But what about last time?
