Page 43 of Between Now and Forever

“No, you’ve added to it. I’m glad I met you. It’s nice to know people like you exist.”

I stop on the next step and turn to face him. “Who are people like me?”

His expression is as solemn as I’ve ever seen it and there’s a tenderness there that makes my knees weak.

“People who don’t want anything. People who speak from the heart. People who aren’t just a pretty shell.”

He has such a way with words and I wish I did so I could tell him how much what he said means to me. That I feel seen, that for the first time someone likes me for the same reasons I like myself.

We reach the top of the stairs and walk down the hallway in a delicious, anticipation-laden silence. Our hands brush against each other as we walk. After the fourth time, his pinky curls around mine.

It’s such a tiny thing, but I’m engulfed by emotions I can’t explain.

I’ve never minded being alone, but his finger holding mine, I feel a rush of relief that almost brings me to my knees.

I’ve been so hungry for this. It’s achingly pure in motive—a touch just for the sake of it.

The rest of our fingers intertwine and his thumb strokes the inside of my wrist. It’s the most natural thing in the world to hold his hand, and at the same time it feels like a dream.

“Here we are,” he says when we’ve reached the end of the hall.

His voice is gruff, but it glides over me like the whisper of luxurious silk. I turn, my back to the door, and look up into his spectacular face.

His eyes burn into mine, and my heart trips over itself.

The very air around us is charged with the longing I’ve been feeling since he swept me off my feet and carried me through the rain.

“Thank you for rescuing me.” My mouth has gone dry, and I lick my lower lip. He eyes follow the movement and narrow like a hunter who has sighted his prey and is trying to decide the best way to catch it.

His phone buzzes and he closes his eyes, throwing his head back in frustration.

When he looks back at me, his eyes are bright with conflict.

“I need to speak with my father. Can I come back?” He says the last part like it’s got a deeper meaning he expects me to grasp.

“Come back?” I ask, dazedly.

He nods, and I notice that his throat is working, likehe’snervous, too.

“I’m insanely attracted to you. I don’t know what your situation is, but I’d like to come back here and talk and kiss you and whatever else…”

If my hair had been on fire, I wouldn’t have been able to scream because I’m speechless.

Hewantstokissme.

I’m going to have my first kiss.

In the face of my silence, he flushes and drops my hands. He takes a step back from me and groans.

“I’m an ass. I’m sorry, I thought that…you were sort of into me, too.”

“I am…it’s just…” I scramble for the words that seem determine to evade me. I curse my stupid brain. Why couldn’t I have a gift with words, instead of the ability to draw and paint things that no one else seems to understand?

He moves even further away. “I know, I’m leaving soon. It’s selfish of me to—”

“No!” I say it more sharply than I mean to and surprise registers on his face.

“I’m not good with words…not like you are. I…" I sigh in frustration when he only looks more confused and moves away a little.

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