Separate they sounded like silly scales.
Together — they were beautiful.
When I stopped the piece, I was sweating.
“Open your eyes,” Gabe whispered.
He was breathing so heavily it looked like he’d just run a marathon. With a smile he tucked my fallen hair behind my ear and tilted my chin toward him.
“That…” He leaned in. “…is how you perform. Like every kiss is both your first and last — like you’re saying both hello and goodbye — like you’ve just been born… like you’ve just died.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
In all my years living — I’d never experienced such a powerful kiss. The force in which our mouths met, our bodies fused, was electrifying — and we hadn’t even touched. How’s that for insanity? —Gabe H.
Gabe
I was going to kiss her.
I don’t know what the hell I’d been thinking to give advice like that, especially considering I knew I was already attracted to her and we were locked in a small confined space. Bad enough that the music was adding to her intoxicating scent. Worse — that in order to live I kind of had to breathe.
So I greedily sucked in every inch of air — praying that it would be permeated with her — I wanted to taste her that bad.
But each greedy inhale — left me parched.
My gaze lowered to her lips — and stayed there.
The bench made a cracking nose as she moved forward. An inch closer and our mouths would be touching.
I hadn’t kissed a girl out of pure savage need.
In four years.
A small sigh escaped her mouth as I moved my hands to the side of her face and pressed a tender kiss right on the corner where her lips met.
Another sigh.
Another kiss on the opposite corner.
She clenched my wrists with her hands.
Next, our mouths collided.
Notes fused together.
I flattened my hands against hers then interlocked our fingers, slowly pulling her up from the piano bench and walking her backward toward the wall.
Her soft tongue pushed against my lips. When I opened my mouth, everything about Saylor became my identity as her scent and warmth swallowed me whole.
She moved her hands to my shoulders and then gave my long hair a little tug.
Of course she’d have no idea that hair pulling was my Achilles heel — but it was almost worse than that.
Because it turned off my need to be safe with her.
And made me want to give her everything.
My phone started buzzing in my pocket.