Page 84 of Unbound
My heart beats speed when his lips part, knowing words are soon to follow. What if he says something I don’t like? What if this is when he tells me, last night was fun, but that’s where it ends?
I’m not sure what I’m thinking, maybe I’m wanting to convince myself him being near is real but I raise my palm to his face. “I remember this boy, the one on stage tonight,” I whisper. “You reminded me of that night in Portland. Do you remember that night?”
“Yeah, I do.” He darts his eyes from mine and glances at the stage. “I’m not sure I’ve ever felt that relaxed on stage before.” Swallowing hard, he takes a step forward toward me, his warm chest against mine now. “I think I did that night in Portland because you were there. Maybe that’s why tonight felt so right.”
I nod, unsure what to say because despite this not being our night, in many ways it felt like a glimpse as to what our future might hold between us.
“Will you dance with me?” he asks, tone gentle but the way the words are delivered, it’s a rough whisper I’m craving. Sadly, I know I won’t deny him. I also know him and when he wants to convince me of anything, he knows how. Cupping my cheek, he brings us together, his eyes falling shut. “I want to hold you.”
Like I’d say no to him now.
Carefully, his thumb strokes my cheek, the softest of touches meant to melt my heart. With his touch, my eyes move to his, my resolve weakening. My eyes water, lips trembling as I clutch his shirt and smile. “You’re holding me now.”
He exhales, the corners of his mouth lifting. “I know, but it’s not enough.” Pleading eyes tell a story, one I’m too weak not to hear. “I want you closer.”
He swallows, watching me with the same passion that held me to him for years.
“I don’t know why, but suddenly no amount of time with you seems like enough,” he admits, his lips brushing my temple.
Our movements aren’t rushed, they’re slow, his hand on my waist guiding me but there’s a certain amount of possessiveness in his grasp like he doesn’t want to let go of me. My palms slide higher around his shoulders, unsure of anything but his hold on me and the way warmth beneath his shirt warms my skin despite the chilly night.
He watches me, his face completely unreadable.
My body relaxes, and I can’t remember the last time it was this easy for us, or him holding me because he wanted to, not because he was trying to force me to stay with him.
Our eyes catch beneath artificial stars, his brow furrows, a crease along the outer corners. His expression borders on painful. “I don’t know how to make any of this right,” he says, swallowing, and I know his sadness is as overwhelming as mine. “With you… with Lyric. I just….” He stops because I don’t think he even knows what he wants to say.
It’s hard when you know you’ve fucked things up beyond repair and there might not be a way to find redemption. You have to live with the consequences and sometimes it’s too much to take, a heaviness you’re not sure you can carry around.
His hand moves to my neck, goose bumps moving through my body like adrenaline at his touch.
He breathes, lowly, his lashes fluttering as if touching me ignites the same reaction from him. “You’re so beautiful tonight, you’re always beautiful and I took that for granted.”
My palms find his chest again, feeling the pounding of his accelerated beat. “So are you,” I whisper, his lips faintly gliding across my forehead.
And then he’s kissing along my jaw and there’s no one else here but us, two people who just might be as lost as the other. Wanting to hold him closer, my fingers grip his shirt, refusing to let go.
As if he knows I’m melting into him, his hands slide to my hips, his lips moving to my ear. “I didn’t sleep well because you were all I thought about after you left.” He pulls me in closer, and I’m willing.
It’s as if I’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe as my heart flutters beneath my ribs. He still knows how to get a reaction out of me, and this time, it’s one where I want to wrap my legs around his waist like a damn spider monkey and cling to him.
“All day I couldn’t stop thinking about the feel of your body beneath mine,” he shares and then chuckles softly. “It was kind of distracting to say the least.”
I can’t meet his eyes when he admits that. It’s something I’ve also thought aboutall day long.
“Look at me,” he says, bringing his palm back to my cheek.
My lips part wishing he’d to tell me everything he thought about today. I certainly didn’t expect him to talk this much when I agreed to dance with him.
Drawing back, his eyes hold mine looking at me in a way I remember. As if I’mallhe wants. As if I’m the answer.
Silence settles between us and then suddenly his expression is a powerful combination of trouble and relief. I want to look away because for some reason I feel like he’s showing me a side he’s never showed before and it’s almost too much.
The twinkling lights above show me a different side I didn’t see in the distance of the stage earlier.
His eyes, they’re red and wavering, but he’s not crying. He’s remembering as he draws me close to his chest. I couldn’t even tell you the song playing because it doesn’t matter.
“That song….” I look up at his stubble chin and inviting lips. “Was it about me?”
