Loving Lies(29)

He leans over and just like that his lips shut me up. It’s the nicest way possible to be forced to keep quiet. The kiss is languid, full of desire and promises and for the first time that night I taste hope, mixed in deep with that alcohol-singed sadness. When his hand finally frames my face, cupping my cheek, I scuttle closer, needing the heat of him.

When we finally break for oxygen, he leans his head on my forehead. “You’re beautiful and all kinds of wonderful. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being you.”

My heart stutters and I wonder if he can feel it. My hands feel clammy and I have to force myself not to let the tears flow. I’m not who he thinks I am, but as much as I yearn to tell him all about the woman nestled tight next to him, I can’t find my voice.

“Thanks for coming back,” I say. That sounds lame even to my own ears.

“I didn’t know where to go. After he died, I had to tend to the arrangements and when I thought of going back to the apartment we shared, it almost killed me. Plus, I needed to see you.”

“Good thing you found me,” I say, giving a slight laugh, as I push my hair off my face. “I was totally lost without you.”

“When I say I need you that’s an understatement. Maybe I get how my Dad felt about my mother.”

“Don’t go telling me you’re going to go loopy if things end.”

He grins and I pretend to myself he missed my grammar mistake. I should have said when things end instead of if, because this relationship does have an end date.

“Is this your way of telling me you won’t miss me when our summer is over?”

I know his question is meant to be light but it hits so close to home I can’t answer him. My heart kicks against my ribs. God, I will miss him so much, but I don’t feel I have the right to tell him how much of a hold he has on me.

I try to keep things light. “This is a summer affair. We agreed to that.”

He hauls me onto his lap and frames my face with both of his hands. I love when he does that. It makes me feel tiny and dainty and with my height I never feel that way. “Will you stay with me for the night?”

“Maybe,” I reply, feeling slightly trapped and vulnerable. I also get that’s how he’s feeling.

It’s a wicked grin he gives me and this time I shiver with want, when he says, “I’m going to spend the rest of the night convincing you that maybe should be a yes.”

I want to laugh because a bit of lightness is needed but his mouth is on mine, lightly tracing the contours of my lips. I get what he’s saying. Tonight we’re going to get reacquainted with each other and that suits me fine.

His hands trace my spine and then he gets up, hauling me with him. We walk hand in hand to the bedroom. We keep the lights off and let the darkness give us its blessing. We’re forced to be patient as we memorize every aspect of each other. He takes his time tracing my eyebrows and his fingers go even slower when he finds my pebbled nipples.





CHAPTER EIGHT





Alyssa





Overwhelmed does not describe how I’m feeling. Why the hell did I ever agree to this?

“Oh my god, Alyssa these are works of art,” says Amy, who quickly rushes on about how much Kathryn’s going to be surprised.

I was left with no choice but to tell her what I was working on when she stumbled into my make-shift studio claiming to be looking for something for our boss. I’m not sure I buy that, but making up another lie when my whole life here feels false didn’t feel right. So I swallowed my pride and told her all about Noah’s plans.

“I told you she was great,” says Noah.

Noah’s voice startles me and I have to resist the urge to shut the door in his face. It’s because of him that I’m now feeling cranky and stressed. Plus Amy just told me that Carol, my father’s business contact, is back in town. God, what’s with that woman? Not to mention I’m feeling sort of sexually frustrated. What Blake and I did five nights ago was totally amazing. For the first time in my life I can honestly say a man made love to me all night long. Just recalling how slow and passionate we were makes me blush. But I couldn’t do what he asked. Staying the night, being there in the morning when he woke would break my heart. I had to leave and claiming I’m swamped with business has kept him at bay. Maybe this breather is what we both need even though I know I can’t avoid him forever.

“There’s only ten and I think we should have five more,” says Noah, eyeing me like I’m about to jump on that idea.

I shake my head. “Nope. I’m done,” I say, bending down to pick up my display.