“Sshh, you’re ruining the show,” he jokes.
Swallowing against the emotion in my throat, I turn back around staying as still as I can. I try not to let the effect of his breath fanning across my neck show, but when he turns his head and places a kiss below my ear, I can’t help my eyes fluttering closed.
“You know the stars are really old?” he murmurs in my ear.
“Are they?” I ask, not able to concentrate when he’s this close to me.
“Yep.” He pulls back a few centimeters and when I turn to face him, he’s watching me, his green eyes shining and flashing as the dome projects the lights. “They all range between one and ten billion years old.”
He raises a brow as my eyes widen. “Wow… do you know a lot about stars?”
“Only that,” he says, shrugging.
Smiling softly, I’m rewarded with a grin from him. Neither of us look away, the show finishing behind us as the lights fade out. We’re in a trance, our souls connecting in a way I never thought possible. People talk about soulmates, but I didn’t believe in them—not until this moment.
He clears his throat, breaking the connection before he asks, “You hungry?”
I hate that we can’t sit here and stare at each other all night, because that’s all I want to do. I want to stay inside his arms and never come out of them.
“Starved,” I finally manage to croak out.
Shuffling from between his legs, I move to sit next to him. Reaching over, he pulls a basket closer, the veins in his arms dancing under his skin from the movement. God, that’s so… sexy.
I don’t know how much time passes as he takes all the food out and places it between us because I’m too occupied with staring at his arms. I swipe my tongue along my bottom lip before sitting cross-legged.
“Soup or salad?” he asks, not looking at me and I’m brought out of my staring session, my cheeks heating when I realize what I was doing.
“I’ll take the soup, please,” I answer, picking up a tub filled with croutons , trying to distract myself, but when he looks up at me knowingly, I know I’ve been caught staring.
“You’re blushing,” he says, passing me over a flask that’s still warm.
Taking it from him, our fingers brush but I ignore it, trying to focus on anything else but his… arms. Twisting the top off, I take the bowl he hands me, pouring some into it and then giving it back to him before placing a couple of croutons on top.
“Mmmm,” I say once I’ve put a spoonful in my mouth. “This is delicious.”
“I’m glad you like it. It’d be a shame if you didn’t like my cooking.”
“You made this?” I ask, my eyes wide. “Wowza.”
“Don’t look so surprised, I’m a man of many talents.” He shrugs. “Besides, I love to cook.”
“That’s perfect,” I reply, bringing the spoon to my mouth again. “Because I love to eat and I hate cooking.” The carrot and coriander soup hits my tongue, the flavors exploding in my mouth. “Now, baking. That’s something I love to do.”
“See, we’re the perfect match.” My stomach dips at his words. There’s an insane connection between us I don’t think I’d ever be able to explain. “I have a huge s
weet tooth, but I can’t bake.”
“You make me more food like this and I’ll bake you anything and everything you want.”
He opens a container of salad and a jar of what looks like dressing. Pouring it over, his eyes flick up to me as he smiles. “I’m holding you to that.”
I lift up a shoulder before bringing the bowl to my mouth, tipping it up and drinking the last of the best soup I’ve ever had. “Sure. I’ll message you my order and you can reply with one of your own. Call it a business transaction if you’d like.” I chuckle at myself.
Handing him the empty bowl, he reaches for it but I hesitate at the last second. Pulling it back, I pour myself another bowl.
“I want so much more than a business transaction,” he states, his eyes flashing with intensity. Is he feeling what I am, too?
“I…” I swallow, my throat suddenly dry at his honest admission. The way he stares at me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters has my pulse racing.