Page 80 of Conflict
I squeeze his arm. “Thanks, Bryan.”
As if my feet follow his footsteps, I immediately gravitate toward the front porch, where, sure enough, Shane is. He’s sipping what looks like whiskey—neat—with his free hand gripping the ledge. His back is to me, stiff and unmoving. His shoulders heave then lower as if he’s releasing a long, slow, deep breath. I pick my skirt up, marching across the porch until I’m directly behind him.
“You’re the one running now?” I accuse, my hands on my hips.
He doesn’t even turn to look at me. “Go back to your date, Alyssa.”
The words are clipped, his voice gruff, and the hand that was gripping the rail now balls into a tight fist at his side.
“He’s not my date,” I inform him, scrambling to make him understand. “I mean, he’s my date, but it doesn’t mean anything.”
At that, Shane whirls around to face me. With his jaw held tight, his nostrils flare while his eyes, wild and wide, search mine.
I step closer, tentatively placing my hand on his arm, staring up into his gaze. “Shane,” I breathe, “I’ve been impulsive my entire life. It’s just never gotten me into trouble. That is until I met you.”
He frowns, so I quickly continue.
“I knew you for all of fifteen minutes before I took you to my bed. Me! A virgin, still at twenty-five, gave it up to a charming, sexy-as-hell what I thought was pool boy without a second thought.”
His lips twitch, their corners turning up. A good sign. “Sexy as hell?” he asks.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “You know you are. But I didn’t regret that night. I swear. It was the best night of my life. It’s just… Like I said last night, I was terrified of the intensity of my pull to you. And when the opportunity arose, I ran.”
“I should’ve been honest about who I was,” he whispers, causing me to shake my head in disagreement.
“No, Shane, you weren’t dishonest. You just left out a few details. I used it as an excuse to push you away, and that was wrong. When I saw you at dinner, I still felt that pull. Hell, my attraction—that’s not strong enough of a word—myobsessionwith you was intoxicating. I couldn’t think straight being around you. I knew, if I came to this wedding alone, I wouldn’t be able to fight it anymore. I don’t even know why I wanted to.”
Shane’s hand comes to the curve of my neck. His thumb rubs soothing circles as he gazes into my eyes. “I felt—I still feel—it, too. There’s this crazy invisible force drawing me to you. It should scare me, too, but, Alyssa, it doesn’t.”
My heartbeat quickens. A wall of tears forms in my eyes. I take a step closer, not breaking eye contact. “Bryan’s just a friend. That’s all he’s ever been. All he’ll ever be. But you… God, Shane, you could be so much more than that, if you wanted to.”
A corner of his mouth lifts into a half smile. “I don’t know if it’s because the Wellington men are dropping like flies and I’m the last one still standing, but dammit, sunshine. I don’t want to stand anymore. Not alone. Not without you.”
I suck in a breath.
He cups my cheek with his palm. “We barely know each other, and I don’t give a damn. I want to be with you. I want to explore whatever this is that we have. And I want to do it exclusively. You and me, no one else.”
The rushed words send my heart into a tailspin. “I want that, too. I really, really do,” I breathe, not sure if I’m admitting it to myself, him, or both of us.
His forehead comes to mine as he wraps his arms around my waist, settling his hands on the curve of my ass. “This is real? We’re really doing this? We’re going to give it a shot?”
I laugh as snow begins to fall around us, something I don’t think is usual for Tennessee, and it makes the moment all that more magical. “Yeah, Shane, I think we are.”
He picks me up, twirling us around before setting me back on my toes. His mouth crashes down on mine, and he grins against my lips. I moan in protest when he pulls back.
“We can go slow,” he tells me, “at your pace. Whatever you want.”
Laughter bubbles up as butterflies take flight in my belly. “I mean, I don’t think we’ll pull a Branson and Ari and wed in three months, but I don’t want to go slow. Not with you, Shane. I’m all in.”
His answering smile dazzles and sends the butterflies soaring. “Thank fucking Christ, sunshine.”
And this is how Shane and I begin our whirlwind romance.
He leads me back to the reception and draws me into a tight embrace on the dance floor. We sway to “Let’s Be Still” by The Head and the Heart, and when the singer warns that this may not last if you move too fast, I close my eyes and rest my head against his chest, my heart hoping it isn’t true. Because, if it were up to me, our romance will never end.
