Page 61 of Falcon

I move to grab my phone off the counter to press stop, but a strong hand curls around my wrist, stopping me.

“Let it play,” he says. His voice is nearly a whisper and I can feel the heat of his breath on the back of my neck. My hair stands on end and goosebumps overtake my flesh.

I turn slowly until we are face-to-face and he pulls both of my arms up to wrap around his neck and he glides his hands down to my shoulders then even lower to my waist, letting one curl behind my lower back.

And we begin to dance.

The band croons on around us about being vulnerable, and Falcon presses his lips to my ear and sings softly to me. I don’t even know if he’s aware I can hear him, it’s so faint.

It’s a slow, romantic beat with only a guitar before the other instruments build in, creating an intense melodic experience, and coupled with this incredible man cradling me so close, singing to me in my ear, I’m putty melting into him.

I was never one to believe in feeling this way about someone so soon, but I can already tell I’m stuck on him, and it’s going to be hard to let him go.

The lyrics capture this moment perfectly. I am vulnerable. We are vulnerable together. And because we are together in our vulnerability, I know I am safe. I’m okay.

“You’re shaking,” he whispers.

“I’m overwhelmed,” I tell him, in a moment of honesty.

He brings his hands up to cup my face and glides his thumbs across my lips as the song builds into its bridge, and it makes my heart flutter and race even faster.

“So am I,” he says, before closing his mouth over mine in the softest, most tender kiss I’ve ever experienced in my life.

It doesn’t build. It doesn’t morph into anything overtly sexual. It’s just the most perfect simple kiss.

I can feel his hands rising to cup my face gently, even though they are some of the strongest I’ve ever encountered in my life.

He pulls back just a bit and his eyes search mine. He doesn’t say a thing, not at first. He looks at me like he’s reading every line, every freckle on my skin, and every pore in my face. He’s trying to read my story on my face and in my eyes; desperately searching for the answer to a question he has yet to ask, until he does.

“How could anyone hurt you?” His voice is low and raspy.

“I’ve learned not to ask myself that question, Falcon. It just leads to sadness and me looking for my flaws.”

“Flaws? Baby, you’re the closest thing to perfection I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. You didn’t do anything to cause what happened to you. You are a fighter and you’re living, hell, you’re thriving. I know we’ve only known each other for a short time, but I’m proud of you.”

My bottom lip trembles. His words are soothing a deep-seated insecurity that has resided in my soul since that night in college.

“You’re crying,” he says, using his thumb to wipe a tear I didn’t even know I was shedding from my cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” I shake my head to pull away, to hide, but he doesn’t let me.

“Don’t hide. Not from me.”

“It’s hard to talk about this. I try not to.”

“I’m sorry. I just looked at you and I couldn’t fathom anyone hurting you. It’s something I can’t even consider.”

I simply shrug my shoulders. “If I can help it, no one will ever again.”

“You can help it and so can I. Before I leave this city, we will make sure you are one hell of a badass little pixie who no one would dare cross.” He places a kiss to my forehead, and I smile to hide the pit his words created in my stomach.

When he leaves…

In this moment, it slams into me like a lightning bolt.

I don’t want that.

I don’t want him to go.

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