Page 19 of Love You A Latte

“Hey,” I say, and she glances up to meet my eyes. “I’ve got a gorgeous woman in my arms who’s been letting me touch her and hold her all evening even though my breath probably smells terrible because, of all things, I made usgarlic breadfor our first date. If that isn’t a miracle, I don’t know what is.”

That gets a small, genuine smile from her, the tiniest huff of a laugh, and we’re back on the right track.

“I have an idea,” I say, and I stand, tugging her up with me.

I grab my record player, then snag an album and jerk my head for her to follow me. Her deep sadness is turning into curiosity, and I know I’ve got her. She follows me up the narrow metal staircase to the roof, where I plug in the record player. I set my chosen album and turn it on, then crank up the volume. It scratches for a couple beats until the needle snags, and I sweep Addison into a dance.

I don’t really know what I’m doing, but we’re going to dance to Stevie Nicks under the stars and turn this night around. She giggles in surprise as I pull her against me, whirling us in a circle. I can bump and grind with the best of them, but I’ve never danced like this before.

Like it matters.

Addison leans against me, letting me lead us around the empty rooftop. A couple songs later, I break the easy quiet between us.

“When we were talking yesterday, you said me knowingwhat I wanted was intimidating.”

Addison pulls back enough to look down at me as she nods, her eyes wary.

“Well,” I say, “in this case, I know exactly what I want and I’m confident I know how to get it. I want you to be happy. Safe.”

She blinks, her eyes glossy again, but no tears fall.

“And we’re going to make that happen. Together. You aren’t alone anymore, Addison.”

A tremulous smile graces her perfect lips as she gazes through wet lashes like I’ve hung the moon. I haven’t yet, but I sure as fuck will.

“Us, together,” she whispers.

“That’s right.” I pull her close, so close there’s not an inch of space between our bodies as our hips, chests, noses align. “You’ve gotmyintimidating ass on your side now, so anyone who messes with you had better watch out!” I say with gusto, spinning us around and squeezing her hard in emphasis. I’m being overly dramatic in an attempt to lighten what I know is a heavy topic.

Addison laughs, gripping me even tighter, and I pull her lips to mine for our first real kiss.

I pour everything I have into this kiss. My lips feel like they’re on fire, my tongue impatient to taste, my teeth itching to bite and claim. I drag my tongue against her lips, tasting the salty remnants of her tears. She parts for me, opening so sweetly, and I sweep my tongue in, groaning at the taste of her. Somehow, the garlic is long gone. She must have put on chapstick or lip gloss, because she tastes like sweet berries and green tea with honey and something else that is all Addison.

Her arms circle my neck, her nimble fingers tangle in my curls. She’s given me this one small piece of her, and I’m determined to have it all now. I want every piece Addison has. The hidden ones, the sad ones, the joyful excited ones, the hurt and broken ones. She’s the most beautiful puzzle, and my most cherished treasure.

I grip her waist between my hands, then drag one up her side, barely brushing the curve of her breast. Addison whimpers against my tongue when I move past her breastto her jaw, angling her head so I can taste more of her. The moment stretches until we break apart with a gasp, both of us breathing heavy.

“That was,” Addison trails off, her fingers brushing her lips as she gazes at me.

“Yeah,” I say, still in awe that this stunning creature has chosen me.

Addison

We slow dance to a few more songs and I feel so cherished in Frankie’s arms. They don’t push for more, and while I burn for them, I also appreciate their restraint. Tonight isn’t the night for it. Despite my impressive mental breakdown, Frankie seems to still want me. Snotty nose, puffy eyes, sweaty hair and all. It’s astounding, and I’m having a hard time believing it.

Frankie insists on driving me home, eliciting a promise along the way that I won’t turn my phone back on until tomorrow. They say we can do it together if I want, but I’m undecided on that.

“What if Everly needs something?” I ask as Frankie turns onto Poinsettia Lane, the road Everly lives on in our childhood home.

“She’ll try you, and when you don’t pick up, she’ll call me.” Their voice is so matter of fact, I have no doubt they’re correct.

“Right, yeah,” I say.

Frankie pulls right up to the porch and hops out before I have my seatbelt undone. They yank open the passenger door and drag me into their arms, folding me into a hug so comforting it brings tears to my eyes again.

“Thank you, Frankie,” I whisper into their shoulder, unsure if it was loud enough for them to hear, but I’m too emotionally unsteady to say it again.

They squeeze me harder for a moment, waiting until my hold loosens to let go.

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