Kat stayed still as their mouths melded. It felt … nice.
After a moment of stillness, Austin cupped her left cheek and opened his mouth. Kat reciprocated by opening hers. She began to lose herself in the sensation of kissing Austin and surprised herself when she moaned softly as their tongues touched. Her hand found the back of his head, and she leaned closer. The feeling in her stomach twisted, but she fought to ignore it. She hadn’t kissed anyone in so long.
Why should she deny herself this? Who was she denying herself for?
Austin hummed when Kat’s tongue rubbed his, and he sucked its tip before she withdrew it from his mouth.
His hand dropped slowly from her cheek and slid down her bare arm as they moved together, synchronized, their heads moving slowly from one side to the other. His hand met her knee and he moaned deep in the back of his throat. His palm rubbed gently across her skin before moving slowly up the outside of her thigh. Kat tensed but moaned again when his fingertips danced under the hem of her skirt. He pulled his lips away for one split second and leaned his forehead against hers.
“Kat, we either need to stop right now or … Jesus.”
Kat leaned back, seeing the lust and truth of his words on his face. She blinked, trying to clear her head. This wasn’t her. Although Austin was handsome and undeniably charming, she wasn’t about to lose herself in a night of crazy fucking.
“I think we should slow down,” she said, finally moving back in her seat.
Austin exhaled and rubbed his hands down his face, apologizing into his palms.
“Don’t be sorry,” Kat said. “I’m not. It’s just … maybe we should take things slowly?”
He smiled and lifted her hand to his mouth, planting a soft kiss on her knuckle. “Slowly works for me.”
“Good.” Kat pulled the handle on the car door. “Thanks for the lift. Good night, Austin.”
“Good night, Kat.”
She was still in a haze as she made her way across the lobby of her apartment building and, at first, didn’t hear Fred on the welcome desk calling her name.
“Miss Lane!” Fred waved to catch her attention before she reached the elevators. “Miss Lane!”
“Yes, Fred?” she asked, approaching him.
“Good evening, Miss Lane.” He grinned, revealing two adorable dimples that took the attention away from the large gap between his front teeth. “I have a package for you. It was delivered this afternoon.”
From under the desk, he pulled out a square parcel wrapped neatly in brown paper. “I didn’t catch the man’s name, but he said it was important to get this to you.”
Kat eyed the package curiously. “Thank you, Fred.”
Once she entered her apartment, she dropped everything on the sofa, changed into sweatpants, and grabbed a glass of apple juice before parking herself on the other end of the couch cross-legged. Just as she reached for the mysterious brown package, her cell phone pinged with a text. Austin.
I really enjoyed tonight.
Kat sat back with a sigh, letting the tips of her fingers whisper over her mouth.
I did, too. Thank you for the gift. It was beautiful.
A beautiful gift for a beautiful woman.
Kat still hadn’t thought of a reply when he texted again.
I look forward to our dinner. Happy birthday, Kat. Sweet dreams x
Good night.
She set the phone by her side. The odd sensation that had remained all night in her abdomen immediately bloomed and curled tightly. She placed her hand against it, trying to push it away.
How ridiculous.
Austin was great. He was a nice, safe guy, and there was no way she was going to let a silly inexplicable feeling stop her from having something that could be incredible. It had been too long since her last relationship—a three-month fling with a compulsive liar and cheater—and she deserved some happiness. Resolute, she reached for her apple juice and heard a light thud come from between her feet. She looked down to see the brown paper square Fred had given her.
“What are you?” She picked up the mysterious package and began tearing the paper open.
A gasp left her when she realized what it was. She stared through tear-filled eyes at the 1937 first edition of Walter the Lazy Mouse in her hands. “How?” She ran her fingers reverently over the front cover. “Oh God.”
She opened it up and saw a brief message neatly written in black on the inside of the front cover:
Peaches,
Here’s to achieving anything you put your mind to, no matter what the obstacles.
Happy birthday.
—Carter
11
Carter had barely slept. He was pumped and excited, much like a small child on Christmas morning.
At seven on the morning of his release, he was busy packing up his books and other belongings into a small box with great enthusiasm. The sheet of paper stating he had officially been granted parole was now his most treasured possession, and, at regular intervals, he would open it up and reread it, just to make sure that shit hadn’t changed in any way.