“I mean, I don’t care if anyone sees us together. Or if they think I ended things with Beau because of you,” I clarified. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I want to be with you. I want to really try and make this work. You and me.”
“Man, am I relieved to hear you say that.” He wrapped his other arm around my waist and with the other lifted me up until I could wrap my legs around him. “That’s exactly what I want, too.” With my body pressed firmly held against his, he reclaimed my mouth with his. I could feel my heart beating against his chest as he carried me toward the steps that led to his bedroom. He lowered my feet on the second step up so I was eye to eye with him when he broke our kiss.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m planning on taking you upstairs in a second and showing you exactly how badly I’ve missed you.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “So why the pit stop?”
“Just giving you a second to catch your breath before I remind you exactly why you belong to me,” he said with a devilish smirk.
I felt like my heart was going to beat clean out of my chest, but I tried to pretend like I was calm and collected as we walked up the stairs to my bedroom. Her small hand was in mine, leading the way. There wasn’t a thing in the world that I wanted more than to take her to bed. I’d been thinking about her since the moment I’d last saw her and the fact that she showed up in the middle of the night, well, that was just like having a genie grant my unspoken wish. The black leggings she was wearing clung to the curves of her hips and ass, leaving little the imagination. The view in front of me was nice, but I had a feeling peeling her clothes off was going to be much more satisfying. She kicked off her shoes when we walked through the door and reached for the zipper of the sweatshirt—my sweatshirt—she was wearing.
“Let me.” I placed my hand over hers and slowly pulled the zipper down. “It is my shirt after all.”
“I think I’m going to keep it,” she said with a grin. “Looks better on me.”
“It does look better on you, but it will look even better on the floor,” I said, pushing the jacket from her shoulders. It fell to the floor in a heap behind her. “Speaking of things you stole from me,” I chuckled, when I saw the motocross T-shirt she had on underneath of the jacket. It was one of the very first TEAM TRAVERS shirts that I’d had made when I was on the amateur circuit.
“This one is mine,” she corrected. Turning to show me the back of the shirt, her hand brushing her long hair to one side. My racing number, 237, in the middle of a big pink heart. Yeah, that was definitely her shirt. A rush of warmth spread through my chest seeing my number on her body again. A sight I wasn’t sure I’d ever see again.
“I’m surprised you kept it,” I confessed, replacing her hand with mine and moving her hair a little farther to the side. That fact that she had kept it all these years made me wonder if that meant I still had her heart. The coy smile she was giving me over her shoulder reminded me she definitely still had mine. I lowered my mouth, my lips touching the space where her neck and shoulder met. She trembled against me as I pressed my body up against hers.
“You know, I just couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it.” She reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over head. I stepped back to give her room. She turned to face me, the thin white material of her bra softly cupping her perfect, perky breasts. It reminded me of the night we’d spent together in this very room after prom. The night we’d first had sex and the nervous way she crossed her arms over her flat stomach as if she had a reason to hide her body. There was not a thing for her to be self-conscious about. She was perfect then. She was perfect now.
“You look incredible,” I told her, moving to place my hands on her hips. “You always did, but even more now.” I paused. “I’m so sorry,” I apologized. “I’m sorry I wasted so much time.”