I realize I need to say something. I try to pull a bit of dry humor out of my ass, but it’s not happening. “So,” I choke. “This is just…this is just about the wedding. It’s not actually about…anything else?” Smooth. Seriously smooth.
“It’s about that too.”
This time, my head does jerk up, and luckily, I don’t hit anything. “Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Being nice. Being normal.”
“Maybe this is who I really am. Maybe I was actually nice all along, but I just needed a few night’s worth of good sleep.”
I stare at him until my eyes are dry from not blinking for so long. “Sleep?”
“I actually hadn’t slept soundly in…around…I can’t remember. The night you came over, I slept. For twelve hours straight.”
“So, you just want me to stay so you can…uh…rest? On the floor?”
“It is a suite, so there might be a couch.”
“I...” I cling to Philippe to keep me on my feet, which I know is more than a little ironic. I need to finish that. Tell him no, go home, be smart, and keep the squishy feelings in my chest at bay.
The song finally ends, or maybe it was over a long time ago, and we just danced straight through another one. I’m not actually sure. I expect to unwind myself, step back, and sit back down at the table for another half an hour or so before I can make excuses to leave. I’ll call a cab, go home, and lick my wounds because I’m pretty sure not spending the night here at this hotel with this man is the worst kind of rubbing salt in cuts, cuts I didn’t even realize I had.
Philippe clearly has other ideas. He might be done talking, no, he is done talking, but he hasn’t lost the battle or the war. All of a sudden, his head tilts down, and his mouth crushes mine.CHAPTER 11PhilippeApparently, honesty isn’t the best policy. Or maybe it’s my track record doing me in. I decided to open myself up and put it all out there for Sutton to see. I feel like she can see straight down into the depths of me anyway, so why not take the risk? She thinks I have ulterior motives. That I’m trying to trick her. That I’m not serious. Have I really been so bad that she doesn’t think there’s any good left in me?
Good thing I have a backup plan. Not that I did actually plan it. More than anything, I just want to kiss her. She’s deliciously warm, curvy, and delicate under my hands. Her entire body is melded with mine, and I’ve just spent the past few minutes inhaling her tender, sweet scent at her neck. Not kissing her isn’t really an option.
I could tell her we’re really selling it now in front of a whole crowd. Somewhere back there, my mom is probably watching. I could tell her I just wanted to be a dick and throw her off balance. I could tell her I thought she’d never stop talking, so I had to figure out a way to silence her. Chances are, I’m not going to tell her anything. She wouldn’t believe me anyway even if I told her the truth. That I couldn’t not kiss her because she’s perfect in every single way, and if I don’t take the opportunity, I’ll regret it forever. As it is, I have enough regrets already.
So yeah.
The kiss. The kiss is amazing.
I shouldn’t be kissing her, because kissing her makes me realize how unguarded it leaves me. I can usually lock the rest of the world out, be one thing, and put on a brave face, but with Sutton, she makes me want to come undone.
At first, Sutton doesn’t respond. She doesn’t resist either. Her lips just are there, but then they part on a soft sigh and yield to mine. They transform into something warm and alive. Welcoming. The taste of her is sweet and heady. She tastes like delicious sweet wine, honey, and burnt sugar, even though I’m sure she didn’t eat anything containing the last two. Kissing her makes my head swim.
Even after she pulls back, I can’t help myself, so I bury my nose in the delicate, sweet spot where her neck joins her shoulder. I inhale deeply, and she smells sweet there too.
“What are you—”
Her gasp is cut off by my sister’s soft laugh as my sister approaches us. She sneaks up on us like a cat, unseen. Sutton leaps back guiltily like we’ve done something wrong, and she eyes her shoe as she toes the floor awkwardly.
“I’d tell you to get a room,” Jennifer laughs, “but I already have one for you.” She holds out a small paper envelope with the key cards. “The room number is on the bottom there.” Looking every bit the charming bride she is, she turns to Sutton, who is looking suspiciously at the envelope that was just transferred to me. There might as well be something lethal in there. Like a viper. “Thank you for coming,” Jennifer says softly. She’s angled towards Sutton, away from me. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my brother look as happy as he has tonight.”