That earns her a laugh from me as I make my way over to the bed. I crawl in beside her and slip my arm under the crook of her neck. Pulling her against my chest, I say, “I’ll go first. I’ve been keeping a secret from you, Austen.”
“Oh yeah? What’s the secret?”
“I’ve had a slight crush on you since the day I met you. But after Mack broke the news to me that you were married, I told myself that we could only be friends.”
“I’m not sure that was exactly a secret. Even if Mack didn’t share that tidbit with me earlier, I think I’ve seen the writing on the wall. But you were right, we are friends. You’ve quickly become one of my best friends, Carson.”
My stomach does a weird fluttering and sinking feeling at the same time. Pushing aside my apprehension from her admission I heard earlier with my sister, I say, “Is that so? Do best friends typically share secrets with each other?”
She nods her head against my chest. “They do.” She pauses to inhale deeply, burying her head in the crook of my neck. It tickles when she exhales, and the scent of the tequila she drank floods my senses. “I’m thinking of doing something I’ve always dreamed of since I was a little kid.”
“I’m on the edge of my seat, Austen. What is it? You can tell me anything, and I’d support the hell out of you.” I give her shoulder three gentle squeezes, silently urging her to continue.
“Well, I’d like to put my degree to use. I’m writing a novel. Perhaps even a series if I can get through the first one.” When the admission slips from her lips, she covers her mouth as if she can’t believe she spilled her secret to me.
Rolling her onto her back, I push myself up on my elbow and stare into her ensnaring emerald eyes. “That’s fucking amazing. When did you decide to do this?”
“Yeah? Don’t you think it’s weird I’m chasing a dream with no fallback plan? Without a safety net?” Her brow furrows, and she bites her bottom lip as she awaits my answer.
“Yeah, it’s fucking amazing. And you won’t need a backup plan. Do you want to know why? Because you’re destined for greatness, Dakota. I can’t wait to read it when it’s ready.”
“What? You can’t read it! I think I’d die of embarrassment.” She tries to hide her face in the crook of my elbow, but I pull her chin up so she has no choice but to see the sincerity on my face.
“The words you write to me each and every day without pause have slowly begun healing me and my anxious thoughts. You’re damn right I’m going to read your whole-ass novel. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.” I punctuate my statement with a long kiss on her forehead. I breathe her in before rolling us over onto my back and resting her head against my chest again.
I’m the most fortunate man in the world because this woman chose me to divulge her deepest hopes and desires to. I only wish that I could convince her—prove to her—that I can be the man by her side, being her biggest cheerleader, as she achieves her aspirations.
16
May
My head is pounding so badly that I can hear and feel each beat of my pulse. And why in the hell is my face so warm?
I try to crack open an eye but immediately decide against it when I see how bright it is. Groaning, I fling my hand over my eyes, only for my fingers to connect with something hard. Did I think it was a good idea to sleep on a brick? Testing out the pillow, I move my head side to side to see if it becomes any comfier.
“Mmm,” I hear from just above me.
What the hell?
Peeking my eye open again, I make out a circular, gold pendant resting against a firm, tanned chest.
Holy shit. Why was I just asleep on Carson’s bare chest? And why do the sounds Carson makes first thing in the morning have me squeezing my thighs together?
Heat pools low in my stomach as I take in this innocent accident, noticing certainthingsabout Carson. Like the way his body is hard in all of the right places. His lean muscles and sharp jawline look as if they were carved by Michaelangelo. God sure took his time creating this man. I squint to get a better look at the medallion he never seems to take off his chest. It looks to be Saint Christopher. That explains . . . a lot about Carson. It feels like he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, always trying to protect those he loves.
I shift to try to take him in more at the same time as his palm connects with the bare skin of my lower back.
That feelsamazing. It feels so good that I give up trying to take him in because I’d rather melt back into him and pretend I’m still asleep—to extend this time together—before the reality of what I’m letting happen comes crashing to my conscious brain.
I’m not that lucky, though. Just as I nestle my head into the crook of his neck between his collarbone and jaw, Carson shifts again, moving his hand around my side. When his large hand grips a hold of my waist, I have to bite back the moan that nearly escapes my lips.
“Funny meeting you here, Austin,” he murmurs, sleep making his voice gravelly. I perch myself up on my elbow to take a peek at him, but I’m met with his aqua eyes already taking me in. A lazy smile spreads across his face, and in the morning light flooding through the glass panel ceiling, he looks god-like.
Knowing I probably have mascara smudged beneath my eyes, I perch myself up on his chest and cover my eyes with my hands. “I’m a mess.”
Carson gently tugs my hands down. “Don’t talk about my favorite author like that.”
My stomach pulls taut like the strings of a bow hearing that word leave his lips.
