Page 123 of Come to Me
I lean towards her and brush my lips against hers. We have four more days in paradise. Whatever happens, I'm making the most of these four days.
She slides her hand around my neck. It's soft, sweet, perfect. That's my Alyssa.
For now at least.
The kiss breaks. I push aside the empty feeling in my gut.
The sky is full of stars. They're bight, brilliant, perfect.
I squeeze her hand, tighter, trying to soak in every damn ounce of this moment.
After a while, she lets go and gets to her feet. She looks down at me, a small smile on her lips. "Let's go to dinner."
"I have to do something first." I stand and slide my hands around her waist.
She raises a brow.
"And what is that?"
"This."
I press my lips into hers, pulling her body into mine. I kiss her until she melts into me, until she's putty, until I'm sure she'll remember this moment for ever.
The rest of the night is perfect. Fantastic food. Fantastic drinks. Not a word from either of us about what Alyssa is or isn't eating. Honestly, it barely crosses my mind. She did okay on her own in New York City.
We talk and joke during dinner, but it does nothing to ease the dread in my gut. We can't keep going on like this, leaving everything unsaid.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Alyssa
I'm a kid in a damn candy store.
Sure, I've been treated to the finest things before. But not like this.
The gorgeous hotel room is only the tip of the iceberg. This whole damn island is amazing. Indulgent, expensive, perfect.
Our morning starts with Kona coffee. Real Kona coffee--creamy, smooth, sweet even without globs of honey. I am in coffee nirvana, and I drink cup after cup after cup. Luke teases me, licking honey off his spoon every time I order another cup.
There are no comments about proper breakfast food. No comments about caffeine in moderation. Actually, he hasn't said a thing about my eating since... since forever. That's what I wanted. It's a sign he respects my wishes. That he trusts me. Not that he stopped caring. Not that he's closing off so he can cut ties.
I shake the thought away, focusing on another sip of perfect, creamy coffee. Focusing on Luke's big, brown eyes. His million-dollar grin. His messy hair.
We talk about little things. TV. Movies. Gossip about Laurie. From the sound of it, he's spent most of his free time in front of the TV or the theater screen. Not that I'd expect anything else from him.
But... there's something missing in the conversation. Some place where we aren't quite connecting.
As soon as I think it, I push it aside, push it down as deep as it can go.
We're in paradise. We may as well enjoy it.
Our day is too full for dwelling on whatever it is that's wrong. There's a surf lesson, a hike at a volcano park, dinner at a little seafood restaurant under the stars. We spend our evening at a quiet bar, staring into each other’s eyes, whispering sweet nothings that promise only the immediate future.
No "I'll always love you." No forever. No "you fill me with so much joy that I must make you my wife."
Only now. Only tonight.
We take a long, slow walk along the beach on our way back to the hotel. The air is warm, salty, sweet. I squeeze the soft sand with my feet, letting it creep between my toes. Luke presses his hand against mine, but there's a coldness to it. Something is missing.
