Then There Was You(78)

He ran his hands over my back and shoulders, caressing the bare skin on my arms. Pulling away once again, he whispered, “Let me stay with you, Salem.” The look in his eye told me he wanted more than I could offer.

“I can’t,” I said, shaking my head. I wasn’t ready to let myself be that vulnerable with him yet.

He frowned with disappointment. “Please. We don’t have to do anything. This…” he said, waving his hand around us as if he were outlining our aura, “this just feels so fucking amazing, being here with you. I promise nothing you’re not ready for. Just talking. And maybe some more kissing,” he said with a wink.

There was such a boyish hope on his face. In that hope I saw both versions of Chris—my Chris, the hardened, broken boy that I knew so many years ago, and the rock god Chris, confident and sexy, able to get anyone he wanted—converging into one.

I considered his offer. He’d always held a small piece of my heart, not in the romantic sense, but I cared deeply for him. He was right. Being there with him like that did feel amazing. I nodded, “Okay,” I whispered. “You can stay.”

Chris flashed his signature sexy as hell half grin. He gripped my hips, giving me an intense stare that fluttered my insides somewhere down deep. “By the way, Sarabeth’s makes a mean French Toast.”





I suddenly woke up, alone and breathless. Somewhere deep within me, my insides still fluttered while my stomach rumbled, craving breakfast. Damn, that was just a dream! I silently cursed fate, but then again I felt relieved. Whew, that was just a dream. Although something told me that if the situation were real, it would have happened exactly like my dream. And that made me smile.

Once I’d gotten my wits about me, I realized that it was my day to leave New York and Chris behind. I wasn’t ready. One weekend just wasn’t enough time. My phone beeped on the nightstand beside me.



Chris: Good morning, beautiful. Meet me downstairs in thirty. Can’t wait to see you.



I hopped out of bed and headed for the shower. I knew as soon as I met Chris downstairs that it would be time to head to the airport. In no time at all, I’d be on a plane heading away from the man who had me falling—no, tumbling—head over heels.





He stood with me in the airport near the security check point. The influx of busy people reminded me of my grandfather’s honey bees in their beehives, everyone moving around quickly with a specific task at hand; some groups of people were congregating while others zoomed around with a purpose.

Chris and I stood beside each other, knowing our weekend together had all too quickly come to an end. We huddled together, not moving, watching all of the other bustling travelers anxiously skitter around us.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Chris said softly into my ear with his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. “I had such a great time.”

“I’m gonna miss you too,” I said, already feeling it as I nuzzled against his chest. “This weekend has been wonderful.”

The warmth of his body against mine reminded me of the amazing dream I’d had the night before. I pulled him closer, relishing every detail, steamy and sweet.

He grasped the back of my head in response, cradling me against him. “This weekend has been amazing. I can’t wait to see you again in a couple of weeks.”

Suddenly reminded, I smiled. “That’s right. You’re coming through Charlotte on your way from Cleveland to Atlanta.” How could I have forgotten?

“Yep.” He grinned with longing in his eyes as he took a deep breath. “And that day can’t come soon enough.”

I nodded. “I agree.”

“Salem.” My name was so gentle on his lips and his tone so sincere. “Thank you for taking a chance and coming to see me this weekend. It’s been the best weekend I’ve had in a long time. Something I’ve needed more than you know.”

I smiled up at him, pressing down the sadness that wanted to swallow me. “Thank you for inviting me, and yeah, this weekend was a much needed break.”

“You take care of yourself, okay?” He reluctantly pulled away from me. “Text me when you make it back safely.” A group of teenagers walked by, following a lady in a red T-shirt. Chris pulled his sunglasses off the neck of his shirt and stuffed them onto his face. “I guess I better sneak out of here before I get recognized and mobbed,” he whispered, tugging his beanie down a little lower on his head.

An ache in my heart immediately began to throb. It’s just a couple of weeks, Salem. Hold it together. I nodded. “Okay. Thank you for everything. I’ll text you soon.”