“What are you doing in here?”
“We weren’t done talking.” He pushes off the wall, stalking toward me with that carnal look in his eyes.
I know that look.
Normally, I’d love that look.
Especially seeing as I’m dying to make things right between us, but I can’t do this right now. I can’t be late to work. I step backward, which only incites him to move closer.
“Now, where were we?” He stops to think. “Right, I was about to do this.”
He shocks me with a desperate, needy kiss, cupping my face and sealing our opened scars with a single move. His lips rain down on mine, dispatching shivers all over my body. I’m not going to pretend I don’t kiss him back. Or that I put up the semblance of a fight—I don’t. I allow his tongue into my mouth, welcome it, and lose myself into his arms, this kiss, this moment.
I lose myself, trying to find him.
An oxygen shortage tears us apart, and I’m left with nothing but the aftermath of his touch: a racing heart, erratic breathing.
This lust.
And one burning question.
“Does that mean you forgive me?” I clasp his shirt into my fist, drawing a long, conflicted breath out of him.
He nods.
“I forgive you.”
I smile, over the moon.
He presses his forehead to mine. “What you did was fucked-up, but I can’t blame you for wanting to know more about me. I haven’t exactly been an open book, and… frankly, if I’d received a text saying you were staying at some motel, I would’ve gone and checked, too.”
His admission relieves me.
Is he finally ready to open up to me?
“In that case, I have questions.”
He sighs, tucking his hands into his pockets.
“I figured you would. Which is why I got Ethan to cover your shift.”
“What?” I pull back. “How?”
Ethan hates working on weekends. Will must’ve spun him one hell of a tale.
“Told him you were feeding the homeless, which, in a way, you are.”
What on earth?
“Come on, hop in the shower, put on something pretty. I have to go get my car. Pick you up in an hour.” He dashes toward the exit.
“That’s it? You’re not going to tell me what we’re doing?”
I watch him swing the door open, dumbfounded.
“You wanted to see my life, didn’t you?”
He shoulder-checks me.