“Come on.” He clears his throat, the moment breaking before it had a chance to begin. He gestures to the screen. “Watch the movie.”
I peer at him for a moment longer, then shift my eyes to the movie, watching as Holly Golightly, wearing an oversized nightshirt, accessorized with an eye mask and earplugs, meets Paul Varjak. I laugh at the absurdity, reminded of my own initial meeting with Julian, how I was thrust into his life just as Holly and Paul were thrust into each other’s.
I nuzzle into Julian’s chest, inhaling a deep breath of his familiar scent. The first time I smelled this soothing aroma, I nearly had a heart attack, thinking I’d just had a one-night stand. Heat radiates through me as I reflect on how far we’ve come since the night I expelled the contents of my stomach all over my dress and his shoes.
He rests his hand on my hip, lightly tracing different patterns on the small slice of exposed skin between my tank top and maxi skirt. It relaxes me even more than Julian’s mere presence does.
“I like this,” I murmur, no longer worried about how he’ll respond to my admission.
Leaning down, he places a soft kiss on the top of my head. “I like this, too.”
That’s the last thing I remember before dozing off, the gentle beating of his heart the perfect metronome to lull me to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
A soft snore rips through my slumber and I flutter my eyelids open, my surroundings unfamiliar at first. Then the day trickles back… Spending the afternoon with Julian. Having dinner with Julian. Falling asleep cocooned in Julian’s warm embrace as we watched Breakfast at Tiffany’s, where I remain. The movie still plays on the screen, but it’s the final scene where Holly Golightly frantically searches for Cat in the alley, rain pouring down on her.
When she locks eyes with Paul, I lift my own to Julian, observing the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he sleeps peacefully. The sight brings a smile to my face. Despite practically living together these past several weeks, I’ve yet to see him sleep. I should feel like a creeper, watching him like I am, but there’s something so tranquil about his expression, I can’t look away. It’s the most relaxed I’ve seen him. The darkness can’t find him there, allowing his brain a moment’s rest.
As the music in the movie swells, I float my eyes back to the screen as Audrey Hepburn slowly walks up to George Peppard, Cat stuffed safely in her trench coat. When they kiss, my heart expands with the emotion between them. I’ve seen this movie more times than I care to admit, can probably recite most of the lines from memory. But the kiss in the rain between Holly Golightly and Paul Varjak, once she finally realizes love isn’t such a bad thing, is one of my favorite kisses of all time. So much passion. So much heartbreak. So much hope.
Looking back at Julian, I stare at his face, his eyes still closed, deep in slumber. His lips part with every exhale before his chest expands on a short inhale. My gaze remains transfixed on his lips, unable to look away. I’ve exhibited extreme restraint all summer by not kissing him, by keeping the ball firmly in my court. How much longer can I hold out?
Chloe’s been pushing me to step out of my comfort zone and do something I didn’t plan. Thanks to Julian, I’ve done just that. I haven’t opened my planner once in the past two weeks, a tremendous feat for someone who usually spends several minutes of every day updating and meticulously planning out my life months in advance. Lately, I haven’t given much thought to what awaits me down the road, mainly because I know what awaits me… Life without Julian. Do I really want to walk away without knowing how his lips taste? I know the answer to that. It’s been evident from the beginning.
Shifting in his arms, I carefully adjust my position, my eyes unwavering as I admire him. I inch toward him and my pulse increases, my racing heart thundering in my ears. All I can do is pray my clumsiness doesn’t decide to make its presence known and turn what I want to be a moment full of passion into one I’ll never live down. There’s no going back after this. I’m about to cross the line I insisted remain firmly drawn. But as I gaze upon Julian’s breathtaking face, I realize the reason I’d kept the line firmly drawn is no longer applicable.
I’ve fallen for him. I’ve allowed him to burrow deep under my skin and into my heart. Kissing him won’t change any of that, won’t make it any less painful when the clock strikes midnight and I turn back into a commoner.
Resolved that this is the path we were always meant to take, I graze my lips against his. They’re warm, soft, electrifying. It’s the slightest hint of a touch, but it still sends a shiver through me, the dull ache that settled in me during our first meeting growing more intense and prominent. I’ve fantasized about this moment on more than one occasion, but nothing could have prepared me for the real thing, the fireworks in my core, the music filling my heart. If this is how I react to the mere whisper of his lips against mine, I can only imagine what would happen if we took this further.
Lost in the sensation, I almost don’t realize when Julian’s body tenses beneath mine, his breath hitching. I should pull back now that he’s caught me stealing a kiss, but I’m physically unable to retreat. And he doesn’t push me away, either. We remain in place, our lips barely touching, neither one of us moving. The meaning behind this isn’t lost on either of us.
We’re at a crossroads.
I can pull back, apologize, and pretend this never happened. Or I can take a risk on something new, something exhilarating that will inevitably end in heartbreak. I’ve spent all my adult life planning every second of every day. I allowed myself to be locked in a cage, feigning happiness in a life that made me miserable. It wasn’t until Julian, until I took a leap and did something out of character, that I finally felt alive. I want more of that.
Threading my fingers through Julian’s wayward locks, I press my mouth more firmly against his. With a groan, he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me into his lap, forcing my legs on either side of him. His embrace is powerful, dominating, consuming, yet he allows me to remain in control, to decide how far to take this. There’s no question that the ball’s still in my court. I get the feeling that’s exactly where it will stay.
I brush my tongue along his bottom lip, begging for entrance, which he’s more than eager to grant me. A hand goes to the back of my head as he digs his fingers into my scalp, urging me on. Moaning, I deepen the exchange, my nerve endings stirring. He tastes of mint, wine, and something unique to Julian. A flavor I’ll crave long after we say our final farewell. The way he kisses me, his tongue sweeping against mine, exploring me as if trying to imprint every tiny sensation to memory, only increases my need for more.
My fingers digging deeper into his hair, I press my body against his. But no matter how I try, I can’t get as close to him as I want, as I need. Even a whisper of air between us is too much.
I circle my hips, desperate to satisfy the ache building inside, but I doubt anything can ever extinguish the fire within. Julian’s kiss has sparked an inferno, one I fear will continue to burn for years to come.
I rip my lips from his, panting, pressing my hand against his chest as I struggle to catch my breath. Chests heaving in near unison, we stare at each other as if seeing one another for the first time. I try to tell myself it was just a kiss. People kiss all the time. But deep down, I know this isn’t just a kiss. Not with him. Not with us.
“Does this mean I can finally kiss you now?” he asks when I don’t say anything immediately.
I peer into his blue eyes, a brow raised in question. He doesn’t close the distance between us, indicating this is my decision and mine alone. But it’s not even a decision. Not anymore. Not after a taste.
“Yes,” I breathe.