So, I talked about our team and our games.
And the news.
And pretty much anything and everything except—us.
“I know. It was stupid. But I told the show about my allergy. I thought it would be okay,” he said, clearing his throat again.
He was right, though. Even I had spoken to the show’s producers about the food.
That was months ago. Maybe they’d changed services since then.
“But a brownie? Out of everything on that table, those probably have the highest chances of cross contamination.” He nodded and settled back on his pillow. “You’ll have to contact the show and tell them to be more careful.”
After a few minutes of silence, he turned his head to me. “Hold my hand? Please?” he said, stretching his hand out to me.
My will was worn down.
Beau hadn’t been the only one with a wild amount of adrenaline coursing through them tonight. And right now, I was coming down from the excitement. I felt like I could sleep for a week.
I stood up and slid my hand into his. He grabbed it, pulling me closer to him. “Geneviève, thank you. You saved my life tonight.” His eyes got watery, which made my eyes do the same thing.
“No, you would have been just fine without me.”
“I’m never fine without you. But tonight, I would have died if you hadn’t been there.”
“How many times have I told you to always keep your epinephrine nearby whenever you eat?” I said, the back of my fingers trailing down his cheek, feeling his bristly, five o’clock shadow.
“At least a hundred,” he said, his rough voice sounding deeper, sexier. “Geneviève, come here.”
His eyes bore into mine as he pulled on my arm until he got his hand around my back.
I should have insisted he let me go.
I should have moved away from him.
Instead, I let him do exactly what he wanted.
Which was also exactly what I wanted.
Our lips touched.
I wasn’t even sure who’d made the final move.
It didn’t matter.
All that mattered was that his mouth was on mine.
His hands were on me.
And in that moment, I lost myself in him.
Our tongues touched and I was a goner.
Weeks of being mad—all the frustration, and heartbreak—everything forgotten in an instant. My hands rested on his shoulders as he shifted over on the bed, making room for me. I sat on the edge of the mattress, his hands touching my back, my face, my hair—everywhere.
It felt heavenly to be this close to him again.
Tasting him.