“I don’t think it’s a good idea to make me wait to see you.” He moves the tip of his sneaker to meet the side of my boot. A rush surges, like always.
“Shall I rearrange the holidays then?”
“Yes, please. They are terribly inconvenient.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“That’s my girl.”
“Your girl, huh?”
He stares at me. “I hope so.”
I shift my back against the post, a blush deepening on my face.
“My shy girl,” he adds.
“A little.”
“Yet another thing I like about you.”
“There’s a list?”
“A list I’ve only started.”
“So smooth.”
He recoils as if I’ve slapped him. “Why would you say that?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I’m just nervous. Forget it.”
“Forgotten.” He stretches his leg so that his foot nudges my hip. My hand covers the curve of his shin. “Does it make you nervous that you touching my shin makes me crazy?”
“No,” I lie.
He nudges his leg closer, stares at me for an eternity. A car drives slowly through the cul-de-sac before its engine fades. Otherwise, the early evening is calm. Quiet. Holding its breath for us.
Chilled air spirals around our bodies. I draw my coat closed at my neck.
“Please don’t.” Alec opens the collar of my jacket, separates the sides. He lets the back of one finger slide down the trail of my exposed neck and my lungs surge, push out toward him. Cool air floats over my skin, making gooseflesh rise. He hears my breath catch and withdraws his hand. He floats above me, half hanging from the bar above us. Disappointment floods through my veins, which he senses somehow. A Cheshire grin lights his face. “You like when I touch you.”
So much. God, too much. My insides skip and I throw a nervous laugh. “I do.”
“Would it be weird if I asked you to say it?”
I force the words out, my nerves tripping over their own edges. My insides blush with the admission. “I like the way you feel. Next to me. Your hands. All of it.”
He nudges his knee between mine and I open my legs enough to let him in. The seams of our jeans rub together.
“I want to go slow if that’s what you want.”
It is. And isn’t. “No.”
Alec’s fingers drop to find my neckline. He cups the curve of my neck, lets his thumb travel my tapering collarbone. I tilt my head back, giving him more room, more permission. His fingers glide to the V of my peacoat. He reaches inside and with one hand, he unbuttons two . . . then three buttons of my shirt. I try to look down, but he catches my chin, moves my gaze back on his. His fingers are so delicate I can hardly feel him at all. Instead, I feel the coil of desire twist between my legs.
He gently slides my jacket, my shirt down off my shoulder. I feel the cool air lick the slope of my chest. I wonder if my skin glows in the fading light. I wonder if he likes it. I arch my back, begging for him to touch me. But he doesn’t. He leaves me like that. Exposed and wanting.
“Is it too cold?”
“No.” The cold is a rush.
He sits next to me. Lies back. Props himself onto an elbow and stares at me. I try to breathe. I study his long body, the lean, rippled muscles that peek out from between the lip of his pants and his fleece that has hiked up just that little bit. I want to run my fingers over that band of skin, but I’m afraid I won’t do it right.
His eyes drop to my chest. He breathes in. Stares. Breathes out. Stares. “Can I see you? Out here?”
“I’m right here.” Even though I know what he means.
He rests his hand against his own chest, gazes at mine. “I want to see more of you. Just a little. Just for a second.”
“Uh, no.” I dart my eyes around the yard.
“There’s no one here.”
“I can’t.” I’m not even comfortable being on display when I’m fully clothed.
“You can.” He shoots me a measured, steady glance. “It’s only a matter of if you want to.”
I let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t want to.”
“Okay,” he says as he crawls to me. He lingers his lips to mine. “But you should know that I want to see you. That I’ve never wanted anything more.”
The electricity of his words melts me. My hand drifts to my bra, but then stills. Alec sees my hesitation.
“Only if you want to, Zephyr.” He looks around. “It’s just you and me. I’d do it for you. Anything you asked.”
And then it visits again, that fear that I’m not good enough, that I don’t know enough to make Alec happy.