THIRTY-ONE
Kyle’s voice called after me, asking me to wait, but I tugged my jacket on as I went down the stairs. It was crowded in the bar on the first floor, and I weaved my way through to the entrance.
My emotions were a swirling disaster. This week with him had been amazing. Not just the sex and the new experiences, but the everyday moments, too. The quiet discussions post-sex. Waking up beside him and stealing sips of his coffee.
The temperature outside was above freezing, but it was still offensively cold. I skittered across the gritty pavement in my heels, heading up the sidewalk. I could try for an Uber, but a cab would be faster . . . assuming I could find one.
I had to take careful, deliberate steps as I headed for the end of the block. Had I known Celeste was only a few blocks from his apartment, I would have worn different shoes. After picking me up this evening, he’d parked in his building’s garage and we’d walked over.
There weren’t any cabs on this street right now. Should I head toward the shopping center? I glanced back the way I came, only to see Kyle barreling out of the restaurant, still putting one arm into the sleeve of his long coat.
“Ruby,” he yelled. “Just wait a minute.”
I stood on the sidewalk, shivering in the cold as he hurried toward me. My first thought was to flee, but as I’d technically already done that, I’d stand and fight. His expression was pure determination, and my pulse quickened with every step he took. He came like a guided missile, and when he reached me, his hands closed around my waist, locking me in place.
He used the weapon of his mouth, slamming his over mine, taking without permission. I tried to squirm away. “No.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry I took off after the voicemail.” His lips were firm and urgent, and there was a hint of tongue. Just enough to drug me into letting the kiss continue. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you the next morning. I know I should have.” It was as if he needed to keep kissing me to get his words out. “I’m sorry I was five years late telling you the truth.”
His apology leveled me. His strong arms were the only thing keeping me upright.
“And I’m sorry I struggle to put how I feel into words. I’ve never been good at that.” He mumbled it against my lips. “But I want what you want.”
The world was spinning so fast, it was going to fling me off. “You want more? A relationship?”
“I want all of it.”
There was a sharp pain in my chest, as if my broken heart was trying to put itself back together.
“I promise,” he said, “this thing between us is going somewhere.” His kiss migrated across my jawline, heading toward my ear. When it reached its destination, he uttered it with his breath hot on my neck. “Right now, it’s going back to my place.”
I was too distracted to protest when his arm looped through mine and he urged me down the sidewalk toward his building. I had to hang on tightly, because my legs turned to rubber bands. His statement how he wanted all of it buzzed in my ears.
Yet this was more communicating than we’d ever done, and I worried the magic was going to wear off the second we stepped inside his apartment.
“I should have known,” I blurted out, “you weren’t the kind of guy who’d run out on me like that.”
He pulled to a stop. The tip of his nose and the edges of his ears had turned pink from the cold, and his hair fluttered in the wind, but he didn’t seem to notice any of it. His intense gaze went straight into my core.
“And I should have known you were lying about the guy.” His breath was visible in the cold and danced in the wind. “It wasn’t news to me that when you get upset, you sometimes lose your head.” His deep voice echoed down the empty street. “If you’ll let me, I’d like to help.”
I gave a tight laugh. “You’re going to try to control the part of me that’s uncontrollable? Good luck.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. You think I haven’t tried to get my shit under control?”
We went on the move again and hustled through a crosswalk. It felt like as we got closer to his apartment, the faster he went.
“Kyle. Where’s the fire?” Besides the one in my pants. “Some of us are wearing shoes that prohibit jogging.”
He ignored my question. We flew into the lobby of his building, onto the elevator, and then we were headed up. He stared at our reflection in the dull chrome doors, not saying a word, his expression blank.
What was he plotting in that brain of his? “What are you thinking about?”
“How quickly I can get inside you.”
I couldn’t hold back the smile. Why did his place have to be all the way at the end of the building? We raced down the hall, and as soon as we were inside his apartment, we tore at each other’s clothes. The coats and shoes came off first, discarded by the door. I pushed his sport coat off and tossed it onto a chair as we moved toward his bedroom, our kiss only breaking when he tugged off my top in one clean jerk.