“I’m not finished, you asshat.”
The man looked down at me, eyes full of surprise, or bewilderment. His face was drawn, lips shut tight. Just as they should be. I stared at him, memorizing every detail for a later date, when I didn’t want to burn him down or burst into tears. Stupid female emotions, always getting me into trouble when I wanted to be a hard ass. My butt wobbled, it always had and always would. Time to accept myself and all my flaws and move on.
“Actually, I am finished.”
“’kay.”
“I’m going to get my stuff together,” I said. “I think that would be best.”
He had no comment.
I backed away, turned, and started walking toward the front door.
Most of my stuff was already packed into boxes. This shouldn’t be too hard.
My foot hit the front step and I stumbled, losing my balance. I grasped at the old iron railing, fighting to catch myself before my face met the floor. Awesome. Such grace.
“I’m sorry.”
I stopped cold.
Nothing more was said.
Slowly, I turned. He stood in the long grass, watching, waiting. Honestly, it was hard to look at him. The expression on his face and the way he held his body, the emotion in his eyes. My world was so colored when it came to him. Every detail so vivid and real. He shouldn’t have that power. It would have been so much easier to leave him otherwise. I’d broken into his house, but he’d somehow broken into me, cracked me wide open, exposing me to so much more of life than what had existed before.
And to think I’d genuinely believed I loved Chris. What an idiot. I didn’t have a fucking clue about love. I got like and lust, things along those lines. But the rest was an abyss, a big black hole, and I couldn’t see the bottom. Couldn’t even begin to fathom the depth of it. Inside me, there lived a big ball of emotion to do with my friend Vaughan. None of it was ready to be labeled. All I knew was, leaving him hurt.
“Is that it?” I knotted my fingers in front of myself, unsure.
One thick shoulder rose and fell. “Does there need to be more?”
“I’m not sure.”
He took one step toward me, and then another. With him standing at the bottom of the stairs and me on the second, we were eye to eye. His hands tangled with mine, first one then the other. God, his skin was so warm.
Our bodies gravitated toward each other. The pull of one messed-up heart to another. I watched him warily, trying to hold something back for safekeeping. It didn’t really work.
“You’re right, I was an asshat.”
“Yeah, you were.”
A little nod. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he whispered.
“Oh. Okay,” I whispered back to him. I had no idea why we were whispering.
I didn’t have a good reason not to let him kiss me. Well, there was always protection of the heart and all that. Really, though, given the grinder I’d already put mine through, it was a little late for that.
His lips brushed against mine. Such a soft touch. Up and down in the tiniest of motions, he grazed his mouth against mine. It was sweet, lovely, and a little weird. I’d never been kissed like this. Not by anybody. Every part of me yearned to press forward, to push for more. But at the same time, what he was giving me was so good. To rush him and his artistry would have been wrong.
His breath warmed my face and his fingers tightened around mine. I held perfectly still while he gently rubbed his lips against mine, doing what he wanted. The tip of his nose nudged my cheek, time and again, and my chest leaned against his. With what he was doing, I’d have been knocked on my ass otherwise. His kisses were hypnotizing.
When his lips opened a little, just enough to softly kiss my bottom lip, I swear I swooned. Over and over he kissed my lips, first the top then the bottom, the sides and the corner from where my smile started. No part was left untouched. My smile grew wider, my nipples hard and my loins Vaughan-addled. That’s a medical term.
He drew back slightly, smiling too. “You forgive me?”
“I’d have forgiven you without the kiss.”
“I know,” he said, still speaking softly. “The kiss was more for me.”
“Was it?” God, he was pretty. The prettiest man I’d ever met. “Do you believe in crazy at first sight?”
Lines creased his brow. “What?”
“I’m not down with the whole L-word and I don’t think this, whatever this is, is that. So don’t freak out and suddenly accuse me of being a stage-ten clinger or something, got it?”
“Okay.” He looked amused.
“But what if there was crazy at first sight? Because I think we have a credible basis for that.”
For a moment he just stared at me, obviously deep in thought. “I definitely thought you were crazy the first time I saw you, sitting in my shower in that dress.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And you do drive me crazy, sometimes.”
“Ditto.”
His tongue played behind his cheek. “I might be a little crazy about you too.”