“Since when do you ask?” she breathes.
“Since I want to start doing something right when it comes to you. And that includes asking before I put my lips on yours,” I tell her.
“Is that all you want to do?”
I chuckle. “I figure that we could start with that and then see where the night takes us.” My hand lands firmly on her hip, and I feel a jolt of electricity shoot through me at just one touch.
She feels it too.
Her dark eyes widen as she swallows and draws her bottom lip in between her teeth.
My eyes flick to her mouth and back again. What I wouldn’t give to bite that lip and hear her moan with just that action.
“August.” My name comes out like a plea.
I know what she wants. I can feel the electricity between us. If I moved a quarter of an inch, I’d have her on me and there would be no stopping us. I don’t care if the neighbors come banging on my door because it’s too loud. Nothing would make me stop.
“Henny,” the nickname slides out so easily. It’s one I haven’t used in years. It’s full of memories, wanting and needing. I could never bring myself to let it cross my lips. But something about this moment just feels right.
“What are you doing to me?”
The question catches me off guard, but I chuckle. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“This isn’t a good idea,” she protests, drawing back when all I want to do is draw her in.
“And the bedroom was? What about the locker room? Were all of those bad ideas too? Because I think this is the most hidden we’ve been since whatever this is started,” I say, gesturing between us. “It’s okay to still want me, Hen. God knows that I still want you.”
The confession comes out before I can stop and I see her shake her head. My heart sinks thinking that she is going to walk out of here right now. I’ve said the only thing that would make her run.
And I hate myself for it.
“August, it’s more complicated now than back then. It’s not just me and you trying to survive college. This is my career and yours,” she reminds me.
I shake my head. “I’m so fucking sick of everyone else getting to dictate our lives, Hendrix. When is it time for me and you to finally get what we want? When does it get to stop being about duty and responsibility? When does it get to just be about you and me being happy together? You want that andIwant that.”
I pull her towards me, taking away the space she tried to create between us. “Think about it,” I breathe out.
“Sometimes it’s all I think about.”
Her confession knocks me flat. I can’t believe those words left her mouth. Based on the way she treated from the first time she landed in Tampa, I never in a million years thought we would be sitting here on my couch like this, with her saying those words.
“Really?”
She nods, biting her lip again. I have the urge to lean forward and capture it.
“You hate me,” I remind her.
She shakes her head, tears forming in her eyes. “It’s easier to hate you than to miss you, August. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
I chuckle. “No, clearly not.”
“There’s a thin line between love and hate,” she reminds me of the saying that I’ve heard so many times and never truly believed until this moment.
“What does that even mean? You’ve loved me all this time?” I ask her, swallowing.
A tear falls and she shrugs. “I don’t think I’m ready to say that I love you again. But I know that I’m exhausted from pretending that I don’t want you anymore. It’s getting old and very lonely,” she admits.
I pull her to me, capturing her lips. There’s nothing tentative about this kiss. It’s heated and rushed. Her lips are fighting to keep up with mine as I nip and suck. My tongue finds its way into her mouth without really asking for permission. She responds by gripping onto the hem of my shorts and pulling me to her.
