Page 410 of One More Kiss

Chapter3

We spend the night talking.And laughing. And snuggling. And having sex. And eating. And talking some more. And having more sex. And…you get the point.

But no matter how much time we spent soaking up each other’s presence, we couldn’t stop the morning from coming.

And now, it’s here.

Snuggled in my one-bedroom apartment, the light casting a warm glow from the window, a foreboding sense of loss taints the picture-perfect moment of us together. In bed. Tangled in the sheets after another mind-blowing orgasm.

Dragging his fingers up and down my bare arm as I stay lost in my thoughts, Hawthorne murmurs, “What are you thinking about?”

I bite my lip to keep from freaking him out. “Nothing.”

“Liar,” he teases. “Tell me.”

How do I tell him that I’m thinking about him leaving and that it sucks? How do I tell him that I want him to stay, even though I know it could never work? The guy’s too big for a small town. He’d never want to be tied down, especially to a girl like me.

“Tell me,” he prods.

Peeking up at him, I admit, “I guess I was just thinking about last night.”

“And?”

“And I had fun. Thanks for…completely turning my world upside down.”

He chuckles softly. “Don’t mention it. I had fun too.”

“You did?”

“Of course.” He looks down at me, his eyebrows wrinkled together. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I’m not some big-city girl, Boris. I don’t even want to know about the girls from your past, let alone the ones I had to compete with to keep you entertained, even if it was just for one night.”

“Big-city girls?” He sits up a few inches. “Do I sense some insecurities, Princess?”

“You know what I mean,” I hedge. “I’m a bartender slash business student who wears jean shorts and tank tops and spends her money on drive-thru fish tacos and student loans. Tell me that’s not exactly your usual type.”

Toying with the strands of my hair, he doesn’t bother to argue. Because he can’t. Because I’m right. And it kind of sucks.

“Can I ask something, Princess?” he murmurs after a few seconds of silence.

“What?”

His chest expands beneath my cheek as he takes a deep breath. “What if I––”

The shrill ring of his cell cuts him off, and he groans before rolling over and fishing the phone from his grass-stained slacks.

“Hello?” he answers.

Silence.

His gaze darts over to mine. “Is that right?”

Silence.

“I understand that, Donny, but you have to see it from my point of view––”

His cool blue eyes hold mine before he scratches his jaw and tilts his head to the side, listening to whatever the person on the other end of the call is saying.

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