Ten Days of Perfect (November Blue #1)

He placed his forehead on my stomach for a second, taking a deep breath and pulling me to his lap. I kissed his temple, his nose, before he grabbed each side of my face and drew me into his mouth. This kiss was different. It was pleading; begging me to understand, begging me to pull him up from the hole that opened as soon as he started playing that song. His grip moved to my waist and a restrained moan sprang from his throat.

I pulled my face away and stared at him. Tears flowed freely, now, down his cheeks; my thumbs couldn’t wipe them all away before they splashed on my thighs. With one bottomless, primal sounding wail, his forehead pressed into my shoulder as he gave in to the music, his body quaking beneath my arms. Grief encased me; I buried my head in his neck and met him sob for sob, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

After what felt like several minutes, our mouths found and comforted each other between silent cries of love and loss.

“Ember,” he forced apologetically between kisses and tears.

“Don’t. I love you. This is what it means.”

I didn’t elaborate, and he didn’t respond as we continued making love with our clothes on and our souls bared.





Chapter Twenty-One

Sunlight speared through a tiny part in Bo’s heavy curtains as I awoke in his arms. By the time we made our way back to his bed last night, we both buckled under emotional enervation and fell asleep immediately.

I peered up at a still-sleeping Bo. How do guys look so young when they’re sleeping? Tilting my head, I kissed under his chin before nuzzling back into his neck. Forever. The thought rang loudly in my ears; my heart raced at the want of forever, and the realization that tomorrow morning would be the last time I woke in Bo’s bed for who knows how long.

“Mmmm, I could get used to waking up like this.” Bo just barely opened his mouth and eyes, as he tightened his arms around me.

His swollen, red eyes were the only reminder of being in the studio last night; I realized mine must look the same. Without question, he had played his song for me. I saw and tasted the suffering, but he never stopped. He didn’t question when I absentmindedly asked him to play the music on the piano; he trusted me with his soul completely. He told me he loved me by baring the very essence of his soul, without hesitation.

“Good morning.” I shifted upward and stretched my arms overhead. I combed my fingers through his hair.

He planted a kiss on each hipbone before sitting next to me, knees bent. He draped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me back in to him; there was no awkwardness in our silence-it was perfect comfort.

I reached for my cell phone to check any missed messages, and noticed an email I’d missed from last night. It was from William Holder, DROP’s grant writer, telling me he was looking forward to meet me and wondered if he and I could schedule a time to go over our contacts.

“Do you have anything planned for today?” I turned to Bo, who sat staring at me with something playful in his eyes.

“Not really, we’ll go out for drinks tonight since tomorrow will be a long day but that’s about it, why?”

“I got an email yesterday from your grant writer asking to get together sometime so we could go over our contacts, and all that other boring grant writer nonsense. I figured since I was here, I could see if we could get the meeting out of the way before the big meeting tomorrow.” I thumbed through the rest of my emails and texts.

Bo was silent for an inordinate amount of time. When I turned to see if he’d fallen back asleep, his face was twisted in deliberation.

“Something wrong?” I elbowed him.

“Huh? Oh, no, sorry, just spaced there for a minute. Does Bill know you’re in town already?”

“No, I haven’t emailed him back yet. Do I call him Bill or is that just because you two are friends?”

“Bill’s fine. Just email him and let him know you’re in town, and that we’ll be at McCarthy’s tonight if he wants to stop in to introduce himself-we don’t need to worry about other business stuff today,” he dismissed, though I could tell he was pulling from reserves of lightheartedness.

Bo jumped out of bed and pulled on his blue plaid pajama pants that hung dangerously low off his jutting hips.

“You’re right. Today can be spent in frivolity. I’ll email him,” I giggled as I sat on my knees, heading toward him.

Bo stiffened. “I gotta head downstairs to the office for a quick sec; towels are all set in the bathroom if you want to shower.” He placed a tight kiss on the top of my head before heading downstairs.

What the hell was that all about? Was he expecting me to talk about what happened last night? Shit, did I offend him by not mentioning it?

When I stepped out of the shower, I could hear Bo shuffling through his dresser.

“Hey, better?” I said into my towel as I dried my hair upside down.

“What do you mean?” He walked over and impishly messed the towel through my hair.

“You got all weird earlier, just checking.” I shrugged, righting myself and wrapping the towel around my head.

“No, sorry, it’s fine. I’m just tired.” He slipped his dark jeans on and pulled on a snug emerald green shirt.

Shit, if that’s not his color, I don’t know what is.

He caught my lingering stare and straightened his shoulders proudly.