Page 43 of Double Trouble

I blink, my eyes pricking with the overwhelming emotion from it. He stayed up all night, yes, but it’s not just that. There is footage from months ago… even years. He shoots me with such passion it’s hard to differentiate whether he’s in love with filming or me or both. And my gut dips, my heart pumps an extra beat as I tip over the edge and fall just a little harder for this guy.

“It’s not done,” he says again, his voice wobbly, his breath warm on my cheek. I turn to him, and the nerves run through his eyes before he juts his gaze to the screen. “I’ve got to add a few more transitions, and I’m not happy about the shot here with my phone. Maybe if I make it grainy, like it’s on purpose that it’s supposed to look like tha—”

I press my lips against his hard, with purpose, with gratitude, using everything I have in me to show him just how much I appreciate what he’s done for me. His sentence is lost against my mouth, and my fingers slide through his feathery hair, tugging on the ends.

I’ve always felt that my passion for skating has been a lonely battle. I have support, yes, but I don’t have anyone who understands what skating does for me. He captured it all with his lens, and not just the camera lens, but the lens he sees me through with his own eyes. Tanner has always known, understood, and I don’t know how to tell him what that means. I can’t put it into words, so maybe I can put it in my actions.

We break apart slowly, my lips tumbling over his as I catch my breath. I keep my forehead planted against his, needing it to keep me upright.

“Thank you,” I whisper in the private space between our mouths. Those two words are in no way powerful enough, but they are all I have.

His eyes swivel back and forth between mine, our faces too close for him to focus. But I can see what’s behind those deep greens, and I let him sit with the internal struggle, staying close. I’m not ready to hear that he loves me, even though I know. I know just by how he looks at me, how he put that video together, how he knows when I need to skate it out or talk it out, how he quotes Star Wars to me or checks in on my mental state when no one else does. I don’t know how I didn’t pick up on it before. But I know it now… and I’m not ready to know it.

Just when I think he’ll pull away, he’ll talk himself out of expressing himself with me, he closes the gap between us. His lips press against mine, his mouth open and inviting. His tongue pushes past my lips, and I let out a gasp. He completely envelops my mouth, taking me with more passion than he’s ever expressed physically before.

I claw at him—his shoulders, his back, his hair, and he’s suddenly standing, his fingers digging deep into my thighs as I wrap my legs around him. He’s definitely got Jedi powers, because I have no idea how he did that without tossing us both to the floor.

My back flushes against the nearest hard surface, his hand slamming on the wall next to my head. A groan rips from the back of his throat, and I’ve completely lost all sense. I tug him against me, our bodies not close enough, our tongues not giving enough… never enough. I want him all right now, the fire he ignited in my belly rising and rising with no sign of extinguishing.

We said no sex, but that’s all I want. I want his body, his mind, his everything. I want to make love for the first time in my life, and with that fiery thought, my eyes pop wide open.

I’m in love with him, too.

How did that happen? How did it happen so quickly? My heart hums like a bird’s wings, and I break from his kiss, needing air. He continues loving on me… my neck, my collarbone, behind my ear. I can’t be in love with him. I can’t. I’m not ready for love. I’m not ready to abandon my family like Pete will. I’m not ready to choose Tanner over Demi, and that isn’t fair to him or her or me, and suddenly my brain is too crowded.

My muscles lock up, and Tanner pauses at the hollow of my neck, his warm breath tickling my heated skin. We breathe together, our chests rising and falling in synchronized patterns.

He knows me so well that I don’t have to say a damn thing out loud. He knows this is as far as we’re going this morning. My mind has woken up and put a blocker on any more show of love.

His green eyes flick up to mine, and I try to give him a shy smile. Like whoops, went a little too far there, didn’t we? Even though my body says we didn’t go far enough.

He echoes my awkward grin, then eases my feet to the floor. I’m grateful that he keeps his arms around me; my knees can’t be trusted.

The silence between us grows, and our breathing evens out. I grasp at something to say that isn’t an apology. I don’t want to apologize for him kissing me. I don’t want to apologize for putting a stop to it. I don’t want to apologize for falling in love with him, even. Because I don’t regret any of those things.

I am sorry that I can’t articulate the thoughts running wild in my head, but I don’t know how to just apologize for that.

His brows knit together, and I think he’s struggling with the same thing I am—thinking there should be an apology out there, but he’s not sure if he is sorry. I hope he’s not.

Hawk lets out a loud meow, and Tanner and I both let out a relieved laugh. Maybe I do like that cat.

“Can I tuck you in, boyfriend?” I say now that the tension has eased a bit.

He runs a hand over the back of his head. His hair is an adorable mess of makeout and staying up all night. “How you getting home?”

“I’ve got a ride.” I nod to my board. After all, Troublemakers isn’t that far from Tanner’s place, and I’m sure there is someone there who can give me a lift home.

Oy, that reminds me… I’ve got to call the tow place, call a mechanic, get a quote and diagnosis on the thing, plus find a ride for Demi to get to Candace’s place. Sundays she likes to play with the horses. My laundry needs to get done, and I need to talk to Pete. He’s probably worried out of his mind since I didn’t come home last night. Crap, where’s my phone?

Tanner’s shoulders move up and down with his laughter. I tilt my head.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He leans over the arm of the couch, grabbing his pillow and comforter. “Your mind is waking up, is all.”

“That it is.” I let out a sigh and snag his hand. “I wish I could let you shut it off for a while.”

“You’d regret it.” He says it playfully, but I don’t want him thinking that even if it is in jest.

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