Chapter 17
seventeen
“Stay with me tonight,” he says.
They’re words I didn’t expect, dangerous words, because they make me relax and give me hope, even though I should remain guarded.
Unsure, I adjust my stance and search his features. “I don’t know.” That one thought shows I’m granting this night more weight than I should. We’ve connected in a way I never expected, so far beyond the boundaries of sex.
“I still owe you a shower.” He playfully lifts me, distracting me from the lingering question. He’s unwilling to let this night end yet.
Wrapped in his arms, I’m transported elsewhere. My only concern now is to relish our time together. All we have is tonight, so I must burrow into it like a tight sweater and stretch each second until we fit perfect.
He carries me down the hall and tosses me on his bed. Laid out on the mattress, I scoot back when he descends. One knee at a time, he crawls over me, a prowling animal. He drops beside me and squeezes me against his body until we’re twined naked in each other’s arms, like pretend lovers.
He kisses my neck. The muscles quiver, and I want to fold over on our point of contact so I can live in that perfect spot.
My breath lodges tight in my chest when I close my eyes, imagining this happening every night.
Risky territory, I know, but I’ve already seen us together in my mind, and I like the comfort I find there.
Evan’s breath whispers over my temple. “So . . .”
“So.” I watch him.
The air churns, thick with possibility. It swirls with the kind of expectations that makes me believe this can only happen at the beginning of a relationship. Whatever we say or do here will determine our fate.
Since I arrived, I’ve run from any unknown factors, but Evan draws me out and into his beautiful world. But still, there’s this wall of silence growing between us. Perhaps if I charge forward with a sledgehammer, I’ll crack and shatter it so we can be closer.
I clear my throat to take the first wide-arching swing. “This could be the first time you haven’t had something to say.”
Crack.
“I always have something to say. Sometimes I just don’t say it.”
Swing.
“So say it.”
Crack.
He gives me the tiniest of squeezes. “Thank you.”
Swing.
“Thank you?” I laugh. “That’s it? No witty jabs? No sexual innuendos?”
“No. I . . . I needed you.” His voice trails off, his words fading into the noise of my thoughts.
He needed me?
Shatter. The wall between us explodes into a million shimmering fragments of possibility.
My heart pounds with fervor because I mirror his truth. I needed to be with someone, though I didn’t realize it until he kissed me like he cared all those nights ago. Maybe, just maybe, I needed Evan too.
I want to tell him the words teetering on the tip of my tongue.
Their curves and lines stand defined on the cliff of my lips, ready to spill over, but the traitors tremble, holding back the truth.
They know better, know that saying it out aloud would alarm him.
So I pull them back, tugging the words inside.
They tumble across my tongue and into my dry throat.
I swallow them whole, and they settle like lumps inside me. If they were real, they would choke me.
No matter how sincere those thoughts have become, I need to keep them guarded.
If I told him I liked him, thought of him, hoped for more with him, his warmth might slip away like fading daylight and return me to my darkness.
Even though he’s proclaimed his truth, mine will hold a deeper meaning.
One that says he was right all along, that I can’t handle this.
“How can a man so talented with his hands, suck so bad at being a handyman?” I ask playfully, going for what we’re good at. Banter.
“That’s not the jab you think, Cat.” He chuckles.
In seconds, snuggling becomes tickling, and I’m pinned on the mattress beneath his hulking body, his wriggling fingers tickling my rib cage. I yelp with laughter, begging him to stop.
He pins my hands above my head. I’m out of breath, my breasts pointing skyward, my chest heaving and my back arched toward him.
He leans forward and kisses me. His lips linger on mine, like he’s memorizing them.
And I do the same with him—full bottom lip, arched upper, and both controlling and addictive, each tasting like heaven.
He opens his eyes. His body draws away onto bent knees, but he’s still straddling me. “You want to go for a run?”
“Sex and running? That’s crazy close to my perfect night. You don’t want me to enjoy myself too much, do you?”
“Maybe I want you to remember this night forever.”
I already know I will. I lift myself on my elbows.
Evan could become my addiction if he allowed it. Especially if every time we connected, we made love like tonight.
I glance away. What’s between us is a volatile and hazardous mixture that could explode, forming perfect stars or implode spiraling into a black hole, devouring us both. For one night we’re safe.
Returning his smile, I nod in acceptance.
He gets up, making the mattress beneath me lurch.
As he moves around the bedroom, I devour the sight of his naked body.
Thick corded thighs, defined knees, strong calves, and then there’s his ass.
I catch a peek of it before he slides on his running pants.
He searches the drawers of his dresser, and I count the brawny compartments on his chest. My deep frown forms when he tugs on a T-shirt, hiding them.
“I thought I was the only person in Chicago who ran in the middle of the night.” I kick away the sheet tangled around my foot and sit, legs crossed, on the edge of the bed.
“Insomnia,” he admits.
Something else we have in common.
“I think it’s a ploy to get me out of your apartment.”
“Or,” he nears and lowers his face to mine, “it’s a ploy to get you really dirty so I can take a shower with you after.”
“So you can make sure I’m really clean?”
“Sparkling.” He gives me a kiss and then stands tall.
“When you put it like that . . .” I shrug and glance away, feigning disinterest, though I’m beaming inside. All of a sudden, I’m a girl who wants to sparkle instead of fade away.
I hop up to dress too. I’ll do anything to push us to the point where we’re in a shower together, like I daydreamed.
I bound through his apartment and climb upstairs to my own in search of my running shoes. There, I change into my cool-weather gear. Back downstairs, I meet him near the mailboxes.
“Let’s see if you can beat me this time, Cat.”
Evan tears off through the front door at the challenge, and I follow. I launch over the marble stoop and sprint to catch him in the darkness. We race and chat and play for miles, hours. The city is so quiet; it’s like it belongs to us.
When we return home, I chase him down our street and follow as he darts up the stairs back inside. I’m barely through his apartment door when he twirls me in his arms and kisses me again. Evan’s hands encircle my waist and slide over my back, touching and teasing me everywhere all at once.
This. This is how I pictured us coming together originally, in a seductive crash of reckless abandonment.
He kicks the front door shut and unzips my jacket in one fluid motion.
He peels off my top with arms lifted above my head.
Adding to the chaos, I do the same to him.
We’re on a new quest to be naked and in each other’s arms faster than we can scramble down the hall, leaving a trail of dirty clothes behind us.
The adrenaline surging through my veins flips to lust. He’s an animal, growling and nipping at my skin. Lying on the edge of the mattress, my long legs wrap around his hips, and my arms lock around his neck. He aligns himself and enters me with a commanding force that steals my breath.
It’s a relief to feel him deep inside again, to know our banter and attraction can create something this beautiful.
My eyelids flutter. He leverages his weight and speed by standing on the floor and rocking into me.
My fingers clench the edge of the mattress.
He leans in to kiss me, and the ravenous, rolling connection between us intensifies, causing my insides to throb.
My release comes fast in a stormy wave of spasms. Evan comes right after, and the crash causes us both to collapse in an exhausted heap.
He leans over me and kisses my shoulder, my neck, and then seeks my lips. Their decisive touch matches the intensity of our lovemaking, and my knees clench him tighter.
I want to do this again, every night, for the rest of my life. How can I not when he makes me feel this way? When he shows me what life could be with him in it? And especially when he shows me this kind of attention when we’re nothing to each other. Imagine if we were more.
When he returns from the bathroom, he pours himself onto the bed beside me. He sighs in my ear, drapes an arm over my stomach, and tugs me closer until we’re spooned with each other, limbs exhausted. My eyelids sink closed.
Evan’s breath flutters my hair. “I’m ready for sleep.”
“You don’t want to run again?” I mumble.
“I thought we could just hold each other.”
I clasp his hand in mine and tug it to my chest.
The distinct aroma of coffee causes my nostrils to flare. I inhale before opening one eye. Daylight pours into Evan’s room.
I wince from exhaustion, knowing I’ve slept too little. But then a smile creeps in as I remember last night.
“Mmm.” The sound vibrates through my entire body as I roll over and stretch, my arms and legs extended, but my mood sours when I find the spot next to me empty.
I rise and stumble to the bathroom, where I slip into Evan’s bathrobe, a huge comfy thing.
Padding down the hall, I’m drawn by the scent of heaven—a combination of butter and cinnamon that emanates from where Evan’s standing at the stove.
He’s wearing unzipped, faded jeans, and focused on a pan sizzling with rising steam.
“Do I smell apple pie?” I lean into him, my cheek resting on his arm to peer into the pan.