I couldn’t believe I’d ever thought her cold and unreadable. Samantha was an open book, you only had to care to read it.A romance, I thought, looking at her soft smile now. Ofcourseshe was.
“That’s not it, either,” she said. “I was waiting for you.”
“Oh?”
“Yes,” she said, glancing away, then back at me. I grinned, my heart fluttering. “I wanted to ask you something. Would you come with me to the New York Literary Association banquet Saturday? If I–”
I huffed out a breath of air.
“Don’t laugh, Charlie. I’m serious.”
“I know. I know, Sami. Yes. I would love to. I would…” I said, taking a step closer. “I would behonoredto.”
Her lip curled up into a pleased smile. “Thank you. It would mean a lot.”
“Would it?” I asked, and she nodded slowly.A date, then.
“It would.”
“Okay,” I said, then because I couldn’t hold it in any longer, “I really want to kiss you.”
The smile that flashed across her face was as bright as a shooting star, and as quick, and warmed me from my toes, shoved into a pair of loafers for the occasion, to the tips of my fingers, already reaching for her. “Is this okay?” I asked, my hand cupping her face, and she closed her eyes, leaning into my palm as she nodded.
“Yes, please,” she sighed as our lips met.
And she melted.
Her body pressed against mine just as it had that very first night, her kiss tentative at first, then searching, sweet with champagne and fizzing with anticipation. Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me down closer, my hands holding her waist. Her skin was hot through the pale silk of her dress. Pink. I smiled into our kiss.
“Charlie,” she murmured, our lips parting. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, Sami,” I said. “Just… I missed you.” She laughed, just once, and I pressed my forehead against hers, sliding my hands around her waist and pulling her closer.
“Since last night?” she asked. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“No,” I said. “Since I was twenty-two.”
She looked up at me, so close, and her dark eyes were warm and sparkling before her lashes closed gently, and I kissed her again, soft and slow, trying to show her everything I was too afraid to say:I love you, Samantha. I always have. I always will.
And that was how he found us.
“This is…fascinating,” Sebastian said.
Samantha stiffened in my arms, then took a jerky step away from me, pulling out of my grasp.
Sebastian didn’t sound surprised. “A little old to be fucking in guest bedrooms, aren’t we? Although it seems James has redecorated.” He chuckled, looking around at our surroundings, the crib, the stack of diaper boxes. He picked up a tiny yellow onesie, turning it over in his hands before putting it back down in a pile of similarly miniscule clothing. “And I suppose depending on the, ah, intention here, ababyshower could possibly be considered a more appropriate celebration than whatever it was we were celebrating last time. What was it? Tally’s first job? I can barely remember, it was so long ago…”
“Ryan’s internship,” I said.
Here, in this room, I remembered like it was yesterday.
We’d only been half undressed, and it would have been the work of a moment to pull our clothes back into place if we’d been able to tear ourselves away from each other, my hands untucking her carefully tucked blouse from the short skirt she had shoved up around her waist to get my hands on her skin once again. Her hair had been mussed, and she’d pulled me down with one hand around my neck, the other holding onto my belt loop, laughing in between kisses as I backed her up against the bed once again, pressing against her, wanting more, knowing it would have to wait until we weren’t in the guest bedroom at a party, until I could take her out, take her home, take my time with her. Sami, too pretty and too sweet to rush, like a mouthful of rich cream when you were expecting water.
That at least hadn’t changed.
“Ryan’s internship,” he echoed thoughtfully. “You’ve been waiting a long time.”
“I can explain,” I said.
