Chapter 7
Bri laughed freely while Ethan spun them to the end of the walkway.
People stared, and she didn’t care. He took her breath away with each small touch that sent heat spiraling through her, every inquiry into what she liked or wanted, and the longing looks that neither of them seemed willing to make the first move.
“Do we have to stop?” She didn’t want to lose the euphoria she felt pressed against him.
“If you want to find a spot to sleep, we do.” He was still looking out for her after hours in the airport. Maybe even over the past months. She had forgotten to inquire about that, not that it mattered anymore.
“I want to keep dancing with you.” She wanted any excuse to spend more time in his arms. Since the moment she held his hand at dinner, she couldn’t think of a moment they weren’t connected in some way, whether it was their knees touching under the table, their fingers entwined while they searched for the art hidden in plain sight, or his warm embrace while they swayed to their favorite music.
“I want that, too, Bri. But you look so tired, you might fall over.” He twirled her past the already filled seating areas, saying her name in a low whisper, like there was a reverence and promise that only she was meant to hear.
“We only have a few more hours together...”
“I know.” He looked pained for a moment before switching back to his calm problem solver mode. “If we grab these seats and set up for the rest of the night, then we can still listen to music and talk until one of us falls asleep.”
“Are we going to put those together like a bed?” She asked, not sure of her preference. Back in an alcove at the end of the concourse, he had found two older benches, three seats long with armrests at either end.
“That’s a dangerous game,” he growled, putting the rows back to back. “We’ve been treading that line all night.”
“That reminds me. I owe you for the ice cream sundae since you found the bronze fish with the suitcase in the walkway first.” It was one of their little competitions that made the evening more lively, in between their verbal sparring and intellectual ping-pong.
At this point, it was difficult to tell if she was more attracted to his body or his mind.
“I don’t think so since you found the mosaic columns I passed three times.” He replied absently, placing their luggage on the seats.
“Actually, I think I should have paid to watch you lick that hot fudge off the spoon. I should have sold tickets to that sultry book boyfriend scene. There were so many people watching you.” She laughed, making light of the scene that stoked a fire in her, unlike the story he seemed to have borrowed the idea from.
“I didn’t notice anyone except you, and that look of hunger in your eyes is something I will never forget.” Eyes turned dark as the midnight sky, he stared at her with an intensity that made her question why she was fighting this attraction to him.
“Ethan, we can’t—”
“It’s why I’m on the other side of these chairs. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
“What wasn’t?” She wanted him to argue with her. To tell her all of the reasons they could try to make this work.
“Forget it. Let’s settle in. Then we can flip a coin for who gets to choose the next song.” He refolded his jacket a few times before tossing it on the bench.
“What’s one of the first things you want to do when you get back to DC?” she asked, arranging her bags and watching him stretch out on his bed for the night. With his arms braced behind his head, he propped his legs on the armrest to be able to fit in the tight space.
“Downtown is beautiful in the snow.” He closed his eyes like he was imagining the scene, his long dark lashes standing out against his ivory cheeks. “I wonder if they’ll still have the skating rink near the National Christmas Tree and Menorah.”
“I think it’s at the National Gallery of Art Sculpture Garden.” She snuggled under the coat with her head on her purse, remembering the fun she had skating there with her family when she was a kid.
“Maybe we could meet up while you’re in town?”