“Just thinking.”
His eyes follow mine. “Those are some heavy thoughts. You know what helps with heavy thoughts?”
“Let me guess. Howling?”
“You know it. Howl with me Juliette.”
Without warning, he tosses back his head and lets loose a screeching howl. When he’s finished, his face is flushed and shining with a contagious delight that has warmth seeping past the cold to burrow into my bones.
“Come on, you know you want to.”
Then he does it again.
The thing is, I kind of do want to. But I think about howstupid I’ll look. I’m an Ivy League educated lawyer. I don’t howl.
But why?
The voice in my head is gentle but authoritative and sounds a whole lot like the man standing in front of me currently howling at the moon for the third time. And suddenly, I’m so fucking sick of myself. Sick of being so perfect all the time. Sick of burying pieces of myself because I’m afraid of who I’ll be if I’m not who I’ve always been. What everyone will think if I’m not that person anymore.
And without giving it another thought, I toss my head back, and Ifucking howl.
I howl long and loud and fiercely. For the first time in my life, the knot that lives permanently in my chest loosens, and I’m so light I could float away. I’m elated and wild and free.
I feel free.
I want to keep howling forever.
Eventually I run out of air, and I come back to earth, breath fast and heart thumping with the kind of exertion that is everything good. Then I see Asher’s face, and my heart speeds up for an entirely different reason.
It’s his eyes that pull me in first. They are dark blue with desire, and he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me whole, and I want to let him. Our bodies are opposing magnets drawing closer, and suddenly we are rising chest to rising chest, the only thing between us the question of who will close the distance first.
He answers the question with one arm around my waist and one hand cupping my face to bring my lips to his. His kiss is gentle at first, until I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck and it takes on a darker edge. His tongue swipes against my lips and I open for him, forgetting entirely that we are in a public place surrounded by people. I only feel him. He lets outa low groan as his tongue swipes over mine. He tastes like the peppermint Hershey Kisses we ate in the car, and my entire body buzzes with energy. He slides the hand cupping my face around to the back of my head to tangle in my hair, gripping the strands like they are his last tether to earth as his mouth moves against mine.
I know the feeling.
The arm around my waist tightens, pulling me impossibly closer to him. I feel him hard against my hip and in that moment, I need him with a ferocity that swamps me. I am entirely certain he feels exactly the same way, and the knowledge shakes me. I am not the person who needs someone else. Giving someone that kind of control scares me, and I don’t know how to sit in that feeling. The buoyancy from before is replaced with a stomach-twisting anxiety, and my heartbeat speeds up in a way that has nothing to do with the kiss. And I don’t know how, but he seems to understand where my mind went because he gently pulls away and rests his forehead against mine, a hand on either side of my neck and his eyes on mine. His calloused thumbs trace back and forth over my cheekbones in a calming rhythm, and my heartbeat slows.
“Asher,” I whisper, not even sure what else I was planning to say.Sorry I was halfway to an anxiety attack in the middle of kissing you? Sorry my brain can’t fucking relax and enjoy a kiss like every other person in the world?
“I know,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my forehead and lingering there before his eyes return to mine.
“It’s okay, Juliette. You’re safe with me.”
This time, when he says it, I believe him.
Two hours later, we roll our suitcases down the long hallway of our hotel for the night. It’s the first night of our trip and I had no idea what to expect and, per usual, was anxious about it. But it shouldn’t surprise me at this point that Asher did exactly the right thing and booked me my own room.
We stop in front of our neighboring rooms, and as we face each other, I’m filled with uncertainty. I can still feel our kiss from before, and I am wide open and as vulnerable as I have ever been. I try to summon Lawyer Mode, but for the first time in my adult life it has abandoned me. My head is a mess. It’s only been sixteen hours since we left Pittsburgh, but I feel like an entirely different person from the one sitting hungover on my front stoop this morning. I am now a person who howls in public and kisses a sweet, sexy football player and likes it, and I need to think about all that. I need to be alone. The hotel room in front of me is a refuge. My instinct is to shove my key in the lock and slam the door in his face, but we’re long past that now.
As always, Asher knows exactly what to do. Letting his suitcase go, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me against him. My arms go around his waist, and I hold tight. I feel him inhale, like he’s breathing me in, and he dips his head, kissing the sensitive skin behind my ear, and tingles race across my skin. Then he pulls away and takes my room key from my hand, unlocking the door for me and rolling my bag inside.
He guides me inside my room and cups my neck, kissing my forehead and then my temple.
“Goodnight, Juliette. Sleep well.”
With a grin and a wink, he leaves, closing the door behind him.
Chapter Eighteen
