Page 74 of The Bright Side of Brooding
“Those things are good. I like that about you. But it’s very different than what I’m used to.” She swallowed, seeming to marshal her bravery. “I’ve never felt about someone the way I do about you. And paired with the writing, I just… I needed some space. I was embarrassed I’d snooped and read your obviously private thoughts, and I then didn’t want to lie to you or pretend it hadn’t affected me. So I ran home and acted like a totally immature—”
Those things are good. I like that about you.Having her say them, just like that… I raised my free hand to brush across her high, smooth cheekbone. “It’s fine. We’re here talking about it.”
What I really wanted to say?And how do you feel about me?But I wouldn’t press her on that point right this minute. What she’d admitted was enough.
“We are.”
I couldn’t help the smile that came. “So what do you want to do now?”
She huffed. “I don’t—I mean, what doyouwant?”
Our gazes locked into one another, and my whole center of gravity shifted to her. The pull in my chest, my whole being, made me wonder if I’d be skewed toward her indefinitely.
“You.”
Her lashes fluttered.
“I’d like to date you. Seriously. And move forward together like we might stay together.”
Lightning bolts of nerves raced through my chest.Well, it’s out there now.
“Okay.”
Her answer came out a bit breathy but sure. No hesitation. Though I could’ve gone for something more thanokay.
“Do you want that too? There’s no pressure here. If that’s not what you want, just say the word and we can figure out a different—”
“I do.” She squeezed the hand she still held tight. “I want that. With you. With us.”
That sure, clear confirmation was all it took to relieve the day’s worth of tension that’d cycled through me since the minute she’d bolted last night. I let out a long breath. “Good.”
She leaned up, and her warm lips met mine. She may have meant to start a soft kiss to seal our decision, but everything about the last few minutes, the last few days, had set me on edge. Having her close, touching her, loosed a hunger in me I stupidly hadn’t seen coming.
She didn’t seem overwhelmed at the touch, at the sure progress of my hands from her face down to her neck and then back. Her hands roamed over my chest and arms, like kissing was the only time she had permission to explore me. I made a mental note to make clear she could touch and take whatever she wanted, whenever she so chose.
“I missed you. Isn’t that stupid? It’s only been a little more than twenty-four hours, but I did,” she whispered into my neck, sending fire into my veins.
“Not stupid,” was all I could scratch out.
She ran a hand over my hair and down to my neck where she cradled my head. The feeling of that gentle palm made me pause. The growing need for her, the desperation to be as close as possible, slowed, quelled by the affection and sweetness of the gesture. My gaze found her face, and I searched it for meaning.
“I like you, Nick.”
A sharp breath tumbled out like a laugh. “Good. I more than like you, Summer.”
* * *
More than an hour later and so far past my bedtime it wasn’t funny, I lingered at her door, wishing I didn’t have to say goodbye. But I did.
My hands at her waist, I spoke quietly. “I hope feast night goes well tomorrow.”
Her brow furrowed, and her hand traced along my right pec. She must not have realized how her touch affected me—couldn’t possibly know, or she wouldn’t do that.
“You’re not coming?”
“I didn’t know I was invited.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Of course you are. You’re my boyfriend.”
