Page 91 of Collide
He stands back and waits, watching me with his hands tucked into his pockets.
I press my hand over my open mouth, completely awestruck. The tempo of my heart feels like it’s grown wings and taken flight, soaring out of my chest.
I close the distance between us, launching myself into his arms.
He catches me easily, his hands cupping my ass as I wrap my legs around him, holding on like he’s the only solid thing left in the world.
“What are you doing to me?” I whisper, my voice trembling.
“Is it working?” He grins, smug but impossibly soft at the edges, like even he can’t believe this is real.
My breath stumbles out of me as I confess, “No one’s ever doneanythinglike this for me.”
He leans his forehead against mine, voice rough with emotion. “I want to give you the world, Älskling.”
“Alex,” I whisper, my hands framing his face. “I don’t want the world. I just wantyou.”
I kiss him, pouring every dizzy, overwhelmed feeling into it. His lips part for me instantly, his tongue sliding against mine with a tenderness that makes me moan into him. My fingers tangle in his no-longer-neat hair, pulling him closer, needing more.
I feel him lower us onto the cushions, his body pressing down against mine, fitting perfectly. Alex breaks the kiss just long enough to look at me—really look at me—seeing me in a way no one else ever has, his eyes touching every part of me that’s been waiting to be found.
I trace the line of his jaw with my fingertips, feeling him tremble under my touch.
“Where have you been my whole life?” I whisper.
His only answer is a kiss. Slow, deep and endless.
His fingers glide along the curve of my jaw, a touch so light it makes me shiver.
“Beautiful,” he whispers, leaning up and off me. “I could kiss you all night…” he murmurs, voice low, lips brushing mine, “but I thought youmightenjoy dinner first.”
“You thought right,” I manage, voice barely above a breath. “What’s on the menu?”
I push up onto my elbows and sit upright.
He grins, rubbing his hands together. “You might not know this, but San Diego has a pretty legit Filipino food scene.”
My brows rise in disbelief.He didn’t.
He unzips a black cooler bag beside us, and I’m instantly hit with the rich, familiar scent of garlic and soy, something smoky and sweet blooming in the air.
“I got Filipino barbecue skewers, rice wrapped in banana leaves…The lady at the store threw in a bunch of stuff.”
“Alex…” My voice falters, thick with emotion. My heart soars, full and fragile all at once.
We eat cross-legged on the rug, trading bites and stories, laughter curling between us like steam. He’s obsessed with the adobo—rightfully so—and tells me facts about the Weedy Seadragons in the tank in front of us, how they’re native to Australia, and perform intricate courtship dances. I smile at the thought.
Even seadragons date.
“I wanted to bring you a little bit of everything,” he says with tenderness. “Australia. Philippines. Here. With me.”
“You’re so thoughtful.” My voice is sincere. “Thank you.”
“I wish we had more time.” He sighs.
“Work’s crazy.” I shrug, hoping he’ll offer something more. “You’re here for work too, right?”
He hesitates. “You could say that.”
