“Everleigh, hey. It’s okay. I’m here.”
His warmth surrounds me as he pulls me into his lap and holds me tight against him, the memory dissolving behind my closed eyelids. I inhale his familiar country scent, mixed with some very pleasant aftershave, grounding myself. I’m home. I’m safe. The destructive memory vanishes around me, and I finally breathe again.
I’m on my bedroom floor, curled up in Wyatt’s lap. At least, I think I am. Shit, maybe making myself come to the fantasy of him watching me was a bad idea. I can’t find the line that skates between reality and illusion.
“I’m here, Ev.” One hand wraps around my head, holding me against his hard, warm chest. I can feel his heart beat against my cheek. He feels so real. “You’re okay. I’m not going anywhere.”
He’s really here.
I think.
“Wyatt?”
“Yes, sweetheart. I’m here.”
Sweetheart. He’s never called me that before. Not until this most recent fantasy, anyway. My throat constricts, fear that this too is an illusion. Fuck, what is wrong with me? I hate feeling this broken and scattered.
Wyatt presses a kiss to my temple, and my entire body buzzes with electricity.
Real.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” he asks, his low voice gentle. It’s almost enough to break me. Iwantto tell him everything. But I can’t go there. Not today when Macy’s expecting me to show up with a camera like it’s no big deal. I have to have my shit together, and falling apart any more than I already have would be a terrible idea.
“No,” I finally say, pushing my palm against his chest to look up at him. I’m too intimidated to look him in the eyes, afraidit’ll shatter the fantasy if I’m still trapped in one. I stare at the stubble on his cheek instead, wondering for a second time this week if it’s scratchy or soft.
Wyatt wipes at the tears on my cheek with the pads of his thumb. “Do you want me to change the SD card for you?”
I bury my face against him, nodding against his chest. I squeeze my eyes shut as I feel him maneuver around me with both arms. He doesn’t let go as I hear the click of a new SD card being inserted into the Nikon.
“There. Good as new.”
The relief I feel is instant, the emotion of it all so overwhelming I nearly start to cry again.
“Ev?”
“Yeah?”
“Is this my shirt?” he asks, his voice a possessive growl I may or may not be imagining. But it doesn’t matter if it’s reality or fantasy. Not with all this fucking emotion rushing me like a dam’s broken. The need for an outlet brings out my reckless side. But I don’t even try to fight the urge as I shift in Wyatt’s lap, sliding my knees down either side of his thighs. I snake a hand up his neck and drag his lips to mine.
Soft,I decide of his stubble.
There’s no awkward pause or hesitation. His mouth moves against mine immediately, slow yet greedy, as though we’ve kissed a thousand times before.
He slides a hand over my ass, likely discovering I’m sans panties.
“Fuck,” he groans, grabbing one cheek and squeezing.
I feel desire pulsing from him as he kisses me harder, his tongue demanding entry into my mouth. I shamelessly widen my thighs and grind against his jean-clad hard length as his hand slides up my back.
“Everleigh,” he moans, his mouth sliding down my neck. He runs his tongue along my collarbone, tugging at the wide opening to expose a nipple. I slide a hand up the back of his head, pulling back to watch him. His mouth glides south.
Half a second before it closes over my nipple, a shrill ring echoes in the room.
I roll off of him as though a bomb exploded between us. I’m both shocked and embarrassed by what just happened.Shit, shit, shit. What the hell was I thinking? A new type of panic assaults me as I watch him pull his phone from his shirt pocket. He glances at the screen then silences the call.
“Ev—"
“I’m so sorry.” I say, covering my face with both hands, turning away from him. “I’m so sorry. Fuck, I didn’t mean?—”
