Page 98 of Don't Go Faking My Heart

In the bar's flood lights, the blood seems to drain from Philip's face.

"Thanks Walt," Rusty yells.

The officer waves, and Patty claps Rusty's back.

“Thanks for holding me back,” Patty mutters.

“Thanks for having my back,” Rusty says. Patty nods and returns to the bar.

As much as I'd love to stand here and watch Walt read Philip his rights, I thread my fingers in Rusty's and pull him into the bar behind Patty. We go straight through to the lounge, and the moment we get there, I put my arms around his shoulders. Rusty's hands find my hips, and he presses his thumbs into the dip in my waist. His hazel eyes look worried.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Totally," I say. "I mean it. He has no power over me anymore."

"He grabbed you.”

"Hey, don't worry about him," I say. "He's nothing."

Rusty sniffs. "Shouldn't I be tellin' you that?"

"If it makes you feel better. But I promise I don't need it."

"I hate him. Punching him in the face wasn't enough. Just thinking of everything he’s done to you, about him grabbing you?—"

I put my hand on his jaw, silencing his anger and fear. "Can I tell you something weird?"

"We wouldn't be us if you didn't."

I smile. "I forgot Philip was even there. Isn't that bizarre? We started joking around, and the weight of his presence vanished. But not only his presence. It's like the weight of our past disappeared. Because I was with you."

Rusty drops his head, but not before I can see the smile playing on his lips. I nudge his face up, and he's still wearing that smile. It's not a shy one. If anything, his smile is so confident, it's like he's keeping it hidden because he doesn't need to show anyone else.

Except me.

"It's not weird or bizarre," he says. "I could forget my own name when I'm with you."

"My word, Farm Boy," I whisper. "Could you get any smoother?"

He tucks a curl behind my ear, leaving a trail of goosebumps along the path his finger traces. "Buttercup, you have no idea."

His eyes search mine, and I don't know what they see, but they see something, all right, because the next thing I know, Rusty closes the distance between us. He puts his hands on my cheeks, and his mouth is on mine. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck. He's not close enough. We're pressed against each other, our mouths one, but it's not enough.

I've had this man in my life for a year, and all I can think about is all those wasted seconds doing anything other than this, being anything other than this. I'm greedy for all that lost time. I want to erase every minute of our past where we weren’t what we are now.

I’m hungry for him, no, starving. Rusty's lips, on the other hand, are warm and firm, but not demanding. Each kiss is an invitation I thrillingly accept, an enticement I willingly succumb to. The music from the band fades away with the press of people.

There is only Rusty and me.

Nothing else matters.

Nothing else exists.

Only us.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

ASH

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