“What?!” His words hit the panic button inside her brain. Alarms and sirens and beeps and screams wentoff.
“Kissme.”
“Why?”
“If you kiss me and feel nothing, then I’ll believe you. I’ll walk right out the door and maybe only fan-stalk you once in a while.” His palms cupped her cheeks. “But if even part of you still has the hots for me, then we go on onedate.”
“Why does it have to be a kiss?” She barely breathed the words past a fierce desire to grab the front of his shirt and show him exactly how much she’d grown up in the last tenyears.
“Because your words say one thing and your eyes say another, but your kisses are alwayshonest.”
The alarms got louder. Not only was her leg numb; her whole body hit Novocain status. There was no denying that one of her go-to daydreams over the last ten years had been a final kiss goodbye with London. They could have bumped into one another at the grocery store, a concert, or he’d come backstage after a performance, or she’d wait outside the locker room after a game. There’d been dozens of scenarios. Sitting in a hospital bed waiting for antibiotics to flood her system wasn’t one of them. “Fine,” shegrunted.
His face lit up and then he grew super serious—so intense she felt the weight of his gaze holding her to the bed and pressing her head into the pillow. She closed her eyes, silently screaming,I’m not ready! I’m not ready!The alarms jumped to DEFCON 3. She wasn’t ready to kiss London, and her daydreams and the past they shared and his tenderness,goodbye.
London brushed his cheek against hers and murmured her name. Her pulse pounded in her lips and her mouth went dry. He smelled of soil and a manly body spray and sawdust and him. Oh heavens! She’d forgotten that smell. How on earth could she ever forget a scent that drove her todistraction?
Her name was like a wish on his lips and his breath like a warm summer breeze across her sensitive skin. She turned ever so slightly, giving him permission to take her mouth, to consume it if he wantedto.
He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, tugging it slightly down before finally, irreversibly, and completely kissingher.
The initial touch was like jumping off a cliff, her stomach lifted higher and higher, elevating her into a fever pitch of pent-up, passionate love. She laced her fingers together behind his neck and pulled him into the crinkly pillows with her. Each time their lips parted, she moaned and crushed her eyes closed, wordlessly begging him tocontinue.
When neither of them could grasp a full breath, they ripped apart, their chests heaving and eyesdilated.
“I should have—” Gulp. “—taken that a little slower,” Londonapologized.
“I don’t think slower was an option.” It wasn’t for her. She’d needed to purge her desire for London, and apparently, there was a lot of yearning bottled up in there. She tentatively moistened her swollen lips, noting she’d given as good as she got. London’s lips were red and full and entirely too kissable—again.
“So.” London looked at her expectantly. She opened her mouth to argue and he placed a finger over her lips, silencing her with his touch. He could have brushed his hand over her foot and it would have stolen her breath away. Her body and her memory of him overpoweredreason.
He took her phone off the rolling table. “This is my number.” A moment later, his back pocket rang. “And now I have yours. I know you’re busy right now, so I’ll call you about thatdate.”
She nodded numbly. London Wilder was going to call her. London Wilder had kissed her arguments for staying away from him right out of her head. London Wilder was sitting on her hospital bed. This had to be the greatest and the weirdest day of her entire life. “Okay,” she agreed, and her heart did a littledance.
They were headed into the second half, and she had no idea what that meant, but she was looking forward to findingout.
Chapter Fifteen
London stompedthe brakes of his Jeep Grand Cherokee as three preteen girls darted across the road. “This place is amadhouse.”
Word had gotten out that Maia was in a local hospital and planned to spend an extra day in Dallas recuperating. The official story was that she had a sore throat and a slight fever. Her staff wasn’t taking any chances, and they’d checked her into the hospital for a round of antibiotics with doctor-ordered twenty-four-hour rest at ahotel.
And what a hotel they’d picked. Hotel ZaZa—with its black-and-white-striped awning over the front door and rose-covered trellises climbing the cream-colored walls, draping over balconies and lending an air of romance to the building—was lodging fit for aprincess.
The front entrance to the posh hotel was clogged with crazy fans. They had posters with her name on them, their phones played the soundtrack from the movie over and over again while full-grown women in princess dresses sang along, and little girls hugged Maia dolls close to theirchest.
And he thought Titans fans were intense. The guys in face paint who tailgated all day before a home game had nothing on these women. The crowd was mostly women with a few men sprinkled throughout. Everyone smiled and talked and pretty much looked happy to standaround.
Crazy.
London pulled around to the bungalows as directed. The sweet, much smaller red-brick and white-trimmed buildings had brick walkways and street entrances. Though it was only about twenty steps from the curb to the door, he wondered how he was supposed to walk Maia out without someone recognizing her. Their date would come to a sad and quick end if a mob of tiara-toting women rushed hisJeep.
He scanned the street. Any pedestrians were intent on getting to the main hotel, and there was one older couple shuffling along as if they’d enjoyed a leisurely brunch and were out for a stroll. The grandmother’s hand was in the crook of her sweetheart’s arm, and he used a cane with his free hand. Their easy companionship made Londonsmile.
He pulled over and killed the engine. He’d worn tan cargo shorts and a dark gray polo with the Titans T over his left peck. Being inconspicuous was important to getting in and out of this place. As he exited the car, he felt his six-foot-four-inch height flashed like a neon sign screaming “look at me.” He pulled his baseball hat lower on his forehead—like covering his forehead more was going to help hidehim.
The few steps were quickly behind him, and he had to stop and wait for the older couple to pass on the sidewalk. Blending in was easier if he didn’t hurry. Not that there were many two-hundred-forty-pound safeties walking around the ZaZa Bungalows today to blend in with, but he’d give it his bestshot.
