Chapter 27
The chant of the crowd immediately hushes the second Tai’s lips gently sweep over mine.
My focus narrows to one spot—Tai’s warm mouth covering my own—as everything else is drowned out.
Where other parts of him are hard lines—the cut of his jaw, the slope of his broad shoulders, the occasional slash of his brows—his lips are soft and light, almost as if promising to always be a safe place to land if I find myself needing one.
Sensations are just registering in my brain when Tai begins to pull away.
It takes every ounce of my willpower not to chase after his mouth.
I’m not ready to leave the cocoon of this moment.
Not nearly ready to let go of this feeling welling up from my center.
I want to soak in it. Revel. Explore. I want to grow strong and bold and feast on this feeling.
As soon as the kiss ends, the noise of the crowd comes roaring back.
The whistles, the cheers. I can feel the heat of the afternoon sun and smell a hot dog someone is eating a few seats away.
But these are peripheral sensory inputs.
Tai’s lips are no longer pressed sweetly against mine in a chaste kiss appropriate for a family event, but he hasn’t withdrawn much either.
Our faces are still only inches apart, and he’s looking at me, his dark eyes probing, a familiar expression on his face, and I realize what it really is that he’s doing.
He’s not merely looking at me; he’s seeing me.
He’s seeing me in a way that I don’t think Brett ever did, even when I still had my hair.
I want to be known, I realize. Really known. I want this thing between Tai and me, this attraction or interest or . . . possibility—whatever undefinable thing this is—I want it to be real. And it can’t be real unless I am real.
Fear weighs heavy in my chest. Once Tai sees me without my wig, there’s no turning back.
I could possibly find myself right where I was with Brett—staring at the face of a man who no longer wants anything to do with me.
Who would never again say I’m beautiful.
I could lose the parts of myself again that I just now realize Tai has been giving back to me piece by piece.
The shattered remnants of my self-esteem.
I want it to be real. Need, really. I need it to be real. With Tai, I think that it maybe, possibly, could be. I just have to be strong and vulnerable. Like a real heroine.
“Tai.” His name comes out raspy, my throat thick with emotions.
His thumb moves to outline my bottom lip. “I can do better.”
My mind must be more addled than I thought because I can’t have heard right. “What?”
“Kiss you. I can kiss you better, the way you deserve. With abandon. With ardor. With devotion. I want to show you everything that’s bursting to be let out of here, Angel.
” Tai places the palm of my hand over his heart.
“Everything I see, everything I know in my heart when I look at you. Please tell me you’ll give me another chance to kiss you right.
That I didn’t blow my one opportunity because of the cameras. ”
His head tilts forward, and he rests his forehead against mine. “I need to kiss you again more than I need oxygen,” he whispers in a strangled voice.
I lick my lips, imagining what a second kiss from Tai would be like. The first had felt like heaven on earth, yet he claims he can do even better. I doubt any kiss can rival the first, but I’m more than willing to let him prove me wrong.
I nod jerkily. “Okay.”
His head lifts off mine. “Okay?” he asks in a way that sounds like hope is a tangible thing he’s gripping in his fingers.
“Okay.”
His smile lights up his entire face. My hand is suddenly engulfed in his and he’s tugging me toward the stairs that lead to the exit.
“What are you doing?” I ask with a laugh.
He’s completely serious as he regards me. “You just said I could kiss you again. Do you really think I want to sit around and wait until after a baseball game so I can get you alone?”
Even with the game only half over, we aren’t the only ones trickling out of the stadium.
Tai looks more serious than I’ve ever seen him.
His usual smiling, teasing demeanor is nowhere in sight.
He moves his gaze to me, but his expression doesn’t soften.
If anything, he gets even more intense than before.
“I would do anything for a few minutes of privacy right now.” His voice is rough, almost battle-worn, like he’s barely keeping himself in check.
And it acts like a battering ram to the last of my defenses, my resolve to stay on the outskirts of romance snapped. Over Tai’s shoulder, I see a hidden alcove behind the large concrete walls. No one walking by would be able to see us.
I’m on cruise control, every part of my body hijacked by this one moment, and now I’m the one tugging Tai behind me.
“Where are we going?”
I don’t answer, my heart hammering as I beeline for the concealed recess. As soon as we turn the corner, I pivot and face Tai. “No audience. There’s no one here but you and me.”
Tai’s chest is rising and falling in sync with my own. I don’t think I’ve ever been this bold in my life. It feels powerful. Freeing.
“I’m ready for you to prove that you can kiss me better.”
One second Tai is a foot in front of me and the next he’s on me—his lips, his hands. The concrete wall at my back holds me up against the onslaught of Tai’s mouth. His lips move over mine in feverish insistence, demanding and crushing in their need.
Tai isn’t kissing me in gentle caresses. He’s not treating me with fragile delicacy or even with an ounce of tenderness. He’s kissing me like he can no longer hold himself back. Like I’ve driven him wild and need of me has overtaken his senses.
He’s kissing me exactly how I didn’t know I needed to be kissed. Every heated stroke of his lips is a balm to my wounded heart.
Brett, society, the world—they told me I wasn’t desirable.
Tai kisses me as if I’m the sole object of his desire.
They said no one would want me.
Tai kisses me as if he’s never wanted anyone else before and will never want anyone else ever again.
A warm tear escapes the corner of my closed eyes and tracks over the swell of my cheek, pooling on the pad of Tai’s thumb that cradles my face.
I know when he feels it because his kiss changes.
He slows himself down, gentles himself, sweetens the contact.
His lips move from my mouth to my cheek, and he kisses the salty liquid.
“I-I’m sorry if I came on too strong.” He sounds pained, and I know it’s because he feels guilty, worried he might’ve hurt me.
I place a fingertip on his lips to stop any further apology. “You were right.”
“I was?” His brows draw together in confusion.
“You can kiss better.”