Page 96 of Bottle Shock
My spine melts. My heart tilts forward like it wants to leap out of my chest and into his hands.
I can’t look at him, so I look at my water instead.
“Thanks,” I say, voice small but steady.
After a beat, I turn in my seat to face him. “I had a glass of sparkling wine, and it was Ledger. Is that a new thing?”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Yeah,” he says, a hint of apprehension in his tone.
“It was really good.”
He exhales softly through his nose, the smallest of smiles ghosting across his face. “Thanks.” He swallows. “I’m glad you liked it.”
His reaction is cute, and it makes me think maybe he did make it for me after all.
Even if he didn’t, I’m choosing to believe it. A little delusion never hurts.
The night winds down slowly. Us girls do a karaoke rendition of “Pink Pony Club,” the guys play pool, and surprisingly the locals are all friendly toward me. Maybe it’s because everyone is so happy for Elyse and Dominic they can’t help but be nice to me too, or the tides have finally started to turn—my scarlet letter becoming a thing of the past.
After Elyse and Dominic sneak out and Ethan and Marisa follow shortly after, Gavin and I are left with the twins, Shane (who’s been chatting up an unsuspecting tourist since he got here), and Cole, who’s been quietly nursing a beer all night long.
Gavin looks at me. “Ready to go home?”
I nod, words trapped in my throat. That’s the second time he’s called it home, and it still makes me warm and gooey.
The drive back is a quiet kind of comfortable. I lean my head against the window, staring blankly at the darkened vineyards.
When we pull up to the house, Gavin is quick to come around to my side and open the passenger door.
“Very chivalrous,” I tell him, a cheek-splitting smile on my face.
“Get used to it.” He says it in a way that makes me think I might never open another car door again.
His hand rests on the small of my back as we walk toward the pool house, and the heat of it makes it hard to stay upright.
In the days that have followed our decision to give our relationship a real shot, it’s been one torturous moment to the next. We haven’t kissed, we’ve barely touched, but every moment is like standing at the center of a pressure cooker—the tension so palpable I can hardly see straight.
When we get to the door, the anticipation mountingwithin me is enough to make me dizzy. I’m not sure if he’ll leave me with just a simple goodbye or maybe more. I’m hoping for more.
“Well, this is it,” I say awkwardly, fiddling with the strap of my purse.
Gavin smiles, the lines around his hazel eyes creasing, his bun slightly askew. I want to unravel his hair from the elastic and run my fingers through the strands.He so rarely wears it down in public, and something about the thought of it loose and wild ignites something just as untamed in me—something I’ve never felt before.
“Stop looking at me like that, starlet.” He laughs, the apples of his cheeks slightly flushing.
“Like what?” I ask innocently.
He steps closer, his body heat warming mine by a few degrees. “Like you’re thinking what I’m thinking, and one of us has to hang onto some semblance of patience.”
“That doesn’t sound very fun.” I pout. “I think my patience is all run out.”
“I’m right there with you.” He sounds pained, as if it’s taking insurmountable amounts of strength to hold back.
“Maybe just a kiss goodnight? A little something to hold us over until tomorrow,” I counter, my breath already coming in sharply.
“Yeah,” he says. “Just a little something.”
I tilt my chin up, meeting his gaze as his thumb smooths over my jaw.
