28. Who knew you were such a sweet talker?
28
"Who knew you were such a sweet talker?"
Aaron Miles
When I wake up the next day, I have to pinch myself a few times to make sure last night wasn’t just a dream. I have had that dream a few times over the years, after all—okay, more than a few.
But Marissa’s expression as she confessed that she’s been in love with me this whole time is etched in my brain in permanent ink. Turns out, we were just a couple of cowards. Well, thank heavens eighteen-year-old me knocked some sense into us.
After getting ready for th e day, I knock at Marissa’s hotel room door, eager to see her again. She opens it immediately, her cheeks slightly flushed, and I know she’s been waiting for me.
“I missed you so much,” I say, stepping inside her room as she backs up a few steps. “Now that I’ve kissed you once, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.”
Her blush intensifies. “Who knew you were such a sweet talker?”
A smile pulls at my lips as I cup her chin. “Only for you.”
Then, I kiss her, eager to feel her silky lips on mine again. That’s the thing about kisses. The first one takes so long to happen, but when it finally does, you can’t bear to be apart for even a minute. And after kissing Marissa Martin, I know that nothing will ever taste as sweet. She wraps her arms around my neck, deepening the kiss, and I lift her up. She fits perfectly in my arms, like she was always meant for them.
The taste of her lips is addictive, and I need my fix. Every nerve ending in my body is sparking, my chest warmer than it’s ever been.
I force myself to let her down and then take a step back. If I don’t, we’ll never leave this room. She moans at the loss of contact. Our gazes cross, hers smoldering with heat.
“We should get down to breakfas t,” I say, struggling to swallow. “Our flight is in three hours.”
She bites her lip, and I have to look away. “You’re probably right.”
We go downstairs to breakfast, but I can’t seem to keep my hands away from her. They’re either clutching her, toying with her hair, or settling on her thigh. After years of balling my fists, having to keep them to myself, it feels amazing to let them roam free.
She takes a sip of her coffee. “So, ready for the game tonight?”
Just like that, the harsh reality slaps me in the face, and I almost knock my own coffee down. “The game. The team. Oh no,” I say, panic rising in my voice. “We have to tell them. Your dad!”
After dreading the very thought of facing him for years, I somehow forgot that small detail, too high on my emotions.
She gulps, then looks away. “It’s fine.”
“No it’s not!” I say louder—and higher—than intended, startling the people next to us. “Sorry, guys,” I mumble, heat creeping up my neck. Lowering my voice, I say, “he’s going to kill me.”
“You don’t know that for sure . He might be happy for us. We’re his favorite people, after all. I’m sure he’d rather have you dating me than any other guy.”
I let her words sink in for a moment, but reason wins out. I’m in love with his daughter . He’s going to skin me alive. “Nope.” I shake my head vehemently. “My days on this earth are numbered.”
She places a hand on my arm. “Then we don’t tell him.”
I frown. “What do you mean? Of course we have to tell him.” Over the last fifteen years, we’ve never kept a secret from him.
“We don’t tell anyone. We don’t have to,” she says, her fingers dancing on my forearm, leaving a trail of tiny goosebumps in their wake.
I raise an eyebrow. “You want us to date in secret?”
“For a while, at least. Think about it, we could have a trial run with no strings attached. We know we’re compatible, and we’ve been friends forever. We have these feelings for one another, but how can we be sure it’ll work out?”
“Right.” Having admitted our feelings to each other doesn’t change the fact that we’re still both terrified this being a bust.
“If we don’t tell anyone, we can protect our friendship. We can figure this out, and if it doesn’t turn out the way we want it, we go back to being friends.”
“Are you sure?”
“We ’re adults,” she says with a firm nod. “And we know what our friendship means to us, but we also have to give this a try. This way, there’s less pressure.”
“So, we keep our relationship from everyone?”
“Yep. Even from my dad. He doesn’t need to know until we’re sure. And if we do decide to go back to being friends, he’ll never know. I don’t want him to treat you any differently because of this.”
My chest warms. I’m grateful that she understands what I have to lose. “It could work,” I say, still trying to wrap my head around it. “And if we break up, we remain friends? Nothing changes.”
“Nothing changes.” She nods, putting her hand in mine, then shaking it.
“Okay.” I shake hers back. “That’s a solid plan.” Which is exactly what we need. If we tell everyone we’re dating, it’ll turn into a whole thing, and they’ll be pestering us all the time. We wouldn’t even have the space to figure any of this out. And Coach not knowing does relieve a lot of the pressure.
“Just me and you,” she says, her perfect blue eyes drilling into me.
“You and me.” I c aress her cheek. “But if we try this, you can’t move out. That way, we can at least be ourselves at home.”
She looks away for a second, and it hits me again how gorgeous she is. Even with no makeup, she has this irresistible glow. “Seems fair. I’ll stay.”
A wave of relief washes over me. “Good, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to pull off this secret dating thing for long. I don’t know how I’ll manage to keep my hands off of you.” I pull her in for a kiss, savoring the taste of her lips on mine again. “I don’t think I can resist kissing you every chance I get.”
“You’re going to have to behave, Aaron Miles,” she says, her hand roaming on my thigh. “It’s the only way.”
She’s right. I’ll have to hold myself back. At least we’ll still live together. I kiss her all over her face and neck, and she giggles, glancing around at the busy restaurant. “Aaron, what did I just say?” she says through fits of giggles.
“What?” I breathe in her ear. “I still have a few hours left to kiss you in public, and I don’t intend to lose a second of it.”