Chapter 22 #3
A flash of something crosses Ford’s eyes and then, he’s wetting his lips and he is everywhere.
His broad shoulders are blocking the only source of light in the room and I don’t mind the darkness, if it means Ford is here with me.
The shadows on his face fade as he comes closer and I can’t help but stare at his beautiful face.
The full brows, the same shade of chestnut as the rest of his facial hair.
The straight nose, the square jawline. I have known Ford since I was six years old and I have never noticed the constellation of freckles on his cheekbone.
When he closes the distance between us, Ford is not gentle.
His teeth hit mine and our noses bump together and his beard is scratchy against my chin.
His lips are wet and his breathing irregular.
It’s wrong.
I stop him, pushing my forehead against Ford’s until he’s backing off. I regret it immediately.
Dumbfounded, I ask “Wait. Wait, what are you doing? Are you drunk?”
Ford brings his hands to cup my face and holds me there, impossibly close, his lips brushing mine. He shakes his head once, decisive. “Nope, been sober for eighty-two days.”
I don’t have time to fully digest his words before Ford is kissing me again and this time, it’s just right. Soft and gentle.
Suddenly I’m fourteen again, trying to figure out if I like boys. And Lord, was I wrong. I don’t like boys. Great understatement. I like one boy and one boy only, this boy in front of me specifically.
I’m eighteen and I’m drunk but no amount of alcohol can ever make me forget how Ford’s lips felt on mine then.
Nothing will ever make me forget the way his lips feel on mine now.
I release his chin and let my hands travel down his chest. The fabric of his black shirt is soft against my palms but I want it gone, I want to give Ford everything I have.
My body is thrumming with the need to make him happy.
I push Thanny out of my mind, as far away as possible.
Instead, I concentrate on the man before me. The only man I’ve ever wanted.
When I feel Ford’s tongue pushing into my mouth, I know I have to stop. There are things we need to talk about, things that must be sorted. I push on his chest but I grab his shirt, keeping him close to me.
“I don’t know who I am anymore, either,” I tell him and it’s the scariest thing I have uttered in over two years, but the sincerest.
Ford grins. “I know who you are. You’re Ashley, not a girl.
You smoke too much, you are stubborn and have no idea what the difference between American football and rugby is.
No matter how many times I tell you and how many times you see me play.
You think your English accent is funny but I think it’s the sexiest thing about you.
You always wear socks because your feet get cold and sweaty. ”
Bringing a finger to his lips, I shush him. “Please stop.”
“You love pizza and you’re a sore loser, that’s why you don’t want to play UNO with me anymore. You can’t grow a beard, so you grow your hair out instead. You hate that I can grow it, but also, I know you are obsessed with my beard. I can go on and you know it.”
Ford kisses my finger, swirling his tongue around it. “I know you, and you know me. So I have an idea.”
“I can’t think while you do that.”
Ford sucks my fingertip into his mouth and releases it with a pop. “Do what?”
I can’t believe how ridiculous this man is. I pull him to me by his shirt and kiss him again, bending my head to the side so that our mouths slot together more easily. This time, it is Ford who breaks our kiss.
“So this idea of mine,” he begins but I keep pecking his lips, stealing kiss after kiss after kiss until Ford secures my face into his hands and holds me still. I pout, reaching my lips out and towards him.
“Ash. My idea,” he says again, and I’m the stubborn one.
“Yes.”
“I remind you who you are, and you remind me who I am.”
Through hooded lids, I stare at him. “What?”
“We take things slowly,” Ford explains, “But I want, uh, I want to be with you. I thought I’d lost you for good. This is not what I had in mind when I came here, but it literally makes so much sense.”
“You want to be with me?” I whisper, hopeful yet scared. I need Ford back in my life and the thought of having a repeat of the past two years, the thought of not having him...
In lieu of an answer, Ford brings my face to his and crushes our mouths together.
His lips move with mine until I have no air left and then, I can’t control the noise I make.
Something desperate between the need to breathe and the need of never letting go of Ford.
I vow to never let anyone or anything come between us again.
“How are you still the best kiss I’ve ever had,” I marvel against his lips.
“Actually? Still dreaming of your eighteenth birthday?”
I nod. “Core memory.”
“I’m afraid I am the same.” Chuckling, Ford traces my jawline with his fingertips. “So are you in?” he asks softly.
Nothing left for me to do but accept.
After all, Ford’s all I have ever wanted.