Page 13 of Something Borrowed
Lawson whispers my name as he comes with a low growl. I cradle him close as we ride out the wave of our orgasms together. His kiss feels needy, hungry, urgent to tie us together as every other kiss, touch, moment has. There may be no breaking theseties and maybe I don’t want them to break.
“Lawson,” I whisper as we lie together in the afterglow, his fingertips walking over my skin, both of us catching our breath. “After the weddings...I mean I don’t know what you expect to happen.”
Pulling back, his eyes darken. It’s different than when we’re in the throes of desire, heat warming the honey-brown tones. They burn dark, his full mouth drawing a straight line. I draw back, surprised by this reaction. He has said things that made me believe maybe he wanted more than one weekend together. Things that made mehopefor more than one weekend.
“Never said I had expectations, did I love?”
Voice harsh, he gives me a crooked grin that feels off. Twisted, not an actual smile. Sitting up, he swings his legs off the bed and stalks to the bathroom. Drawing in on myself, I try to fight the tears in my eyes. Try to ignore the sense of rejection I am now hit with. Glad he proved I was foolish to think it could be more.
Climbing from the bed, ignoring the tousled sheets where wejustmade love, I gather my clothes. Thinking better of it, I snatch his shirt up and slip it on, deciding I want to take part of him with me. Sliding it on, I grab my shoes, swiping at my tears. I won’t let him see me fall apart.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Lawson’s voice booms through the room, making me jump. At the door, I turn to glare back at him. Who does this man think he is? This boy! I smile when I turn to face him, squaring my shoulders and holding my head high. Closing the shirt to cover myself, I bounce a shoulder in nonchalance.
“Going to have brunch with the bride.”
Narrowing his eyes at me, he shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. Rehearsal is in an hour, Lark. Before cocktails with thewedding party. Wedding duties demand both of us.”
Frowning at him, I take a step closer, almost as if inspecting him. His words, the way he splays his hands then balls them up. Over and over. How his Adam’s apple bobs as his eyes dart about. Lawson is nervous. What could he be nervous about?
Wasn’t he the one who said he expected nothing?
“That’s right. Brunch istomorrowbefore the wedding. Before we all go back to real life.”
Lawson narrows a gaze at me. Now he is the one doing an inspection. Trailing his eyes over me, head cocked. Hands in front of him, thumbs locked. Whatever he gathers from his inspection seems to make him more anxious. Part of me wants to smirk. To have this little win where I get to walk off with my head held high.
Closing the distance between us, he reaches out for me. Stumbling back a few feet, I wind up in the hall. Barefoot in his shirt. Lawson lets out a little growl, advancing on me, head snapping left and right. Looking for someone who might catch us together. I dart back again, heading down the hall towards my room.
Thankfully I grabbed my key card, so I let myself in my room a few doors down, letting the heavy door close before he reaches me. Letting out a string of curses, he bangs on the door, calling my name in a hushed whisper. To be sure no one hears him outside my door in a towel.
“Rehearsal is in an hour. Benji needs us now,” I talk through the door, clamping a hand over my mouth as the words break.
“Lark, let me in. We need to talk about this weekend.”
“No, it is Benji’s weekend. He needs us now,” I repeat, my head thudding on the door. They are the words I need to cling to.The truth I cannot let myself forget.
We’ve been so selfish. Wandering from the tapas dinner last night. Spending the first night fooling around instead of finding the wedding party. We did not come here for ourselves. We came here to be here for someone we love. Nothing else is as important as this weekend for my son.
“Lark...we will talk later. Before we crash that other wedding.”
Despite the twisting pain in my chest, the tears falling down my face, I smile. Lawson knows how to soften me up. Going to that wedding with him was such a beautiful evening. One I will never forget. I have never danced so much, never laughed the way we did, never shared something so special with anyone.
If that is all I get from him this weekend, it was all worth it.
Throwing the door open after I compose myself, I fix on a smile. Reaching out to press a hand to his chest, his heart pounds beneath my touch. Pushing up on my toes, I slant my mouth over his. Just a kiss. Not a promise of more or a demand to draw things out.
“If we make it to the wedding tonight, I think it would be another night to remember. If we don’t,” I trail off with a sigh, my smile not wavering because I mean my words. “We still have a lot to remember.”
“Lark, wearemaking it there,” he rasps almost desperately.
“This is the part where our heroine misunderstands her hero. I am not that heroine. This is not one of our filthy books, despite some of the smuttier scenes. We might have more moments worth writing about. Or we never have another moment. How about we avoid a third-act conflict? No need to hurt each other or hold one another to some sort of happy-ever-after expectation. Let’s just be here.”
Lawson seems conflicted, something flickering in his eyes. Almost as if he is giving up on something. Leaning down, he grasps my hips to pull me close, reminding me of our indecent attire. Chuckling, he nods as he brushes a kiss across my lips.
“Sure, love. This is not another one of our filthy books. No, not even close,” he hums as his eyes darken slowly.
Swallowing hard, I nod as he backs away with a smirk. Why the cryptic comment? Stalking to his door, he glances back, pulling his towel off as he steps inside. My jaw drops as he stands there, hand on his cock, stroking it as his eyes eat me up. Oh shit.
