Page 71 of You Wish
A smile tugged at his mouth. “No. But I’m sitting next to her.”
She blinked at him, caught between amusement and exasperation. “You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Say the exact right thing.”
Jake leaned a fraction closer, his thumb brushing her knuckles before he could stop himself. “Maybe it’s because I actually pay attention.”
Her laugh was soft, unsteady. “Dangerous habit.”
“Worth it,” he said.
“What if we go there and it’s all a mistake?” she voiced for the second time.
“We both know that’s a lie.” His voice softened, the grin slipping away so she’d know he meant it. “A mistake is you walking away instead of calling me on my shit. A mistake was me letting you walk away without a fight. There have been a lot of mistakes on both sides, but last night wasn’t one.”
“Maybe last night wasn’t a mistake. But continuing on like this will work is.”
“Do we have challenges? Absolutely. Am I willing to figure it out? Abso-fucking-lutely. The question is, are you?”
She lifted a sad shoulder. “I don’t know.”
The genuine uncertainty in her eyes blew him off balance. He had about two seconds to bring this back around or he was going to lose her.
“Georgia,” he whispered, her name rough on his tongue. “If I kiss you right now?—”
Her breath hitched. “Then you’d better not stop halfway.”
That was all it took. Jake leaned in and kissed her.
It wasn’t tentative. Not after tonight. Not with the haunted look in her eyes. He couldn’t erase the pain that had resurfaced but he could temper it, bring some warmth to the darkness.
He tried to keep it slow, careful. But when she fisted her hand in his shirt and dragged him closer, caution went up in flames. He deepened the kiss, groaning softly when she met him with the same urgency.
The blanket slipped off her shoulders. His hand found the small of her back, pulling her flush against him. She tasted likechocolate and peppermint, like something he hadn’t realized he’d been starving for.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Georgia pressed her forehead to his. “We’re making a mistake,” she whispered.
Jake’s thumb traced her jaw. “Funny. Doesn’t feel like one.”
She searched his face, eyes shimmering in the firelight. “This doesn’t make the complications between us disappear. There’s still a canyon between us that can’t be crossed.”
“I’ve made a career of making the impossible possible.”
Something in her broke then—he felt it, the way her shoulders softened, the way her fingers curled into him instead of holding back. She kissed him again, hungrier this time, and Jake answered with everything he’d been holding back for years.
When he finally gathered her into his embrace, she let him. Her arms looped around his neck, trusting, sure. That trust was more intoxicating than the kiss, more binding than the heat curling low in his stomach.
He stood, carrying her easily, and she laughed softly against his throat. “Where are we going?”
“My room,” he said, voice rough. “There are a lot of things I need right now, and my grandparents walking in on us isn’t one of them.”
“What do you need?”
“Your hair spread across my sheets and your legs straddling my face.”
That got a little chuckle out of her. “Funny. I was thinking the same thing.”
