Just us.The thought had me stifling a shiver.
I turned my head toward him. He was close. Almost close enough to taste. We held each other’s gaze for a beat before Atlas leaned away, grabbing the basket.
“We should probably eat.” He cleared his throat. “We don’t want the food to spoil like that poor spaghetti of yours I never got to taste.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled. “Yes, definitely your loss.”
“Don’t I know it.” He opened the picnic basket. He brought out two hearty sandwiches wrapped in brown paper from the deli downtown. He had wine and bottles of water with cheese and crackers. It all looked delicious. I started to laugh when he pulled out a small clear container filled with honeysuckle flowers.
Atlas grinned. “For dessert.”
I nodded, my smile so big it hurt my cheeks. This was going to be a night to remember.
We ate slowly and talked a lot. I’d once thought Atlas wasn’t much for words, but that wasn’t exactly the case. Speaking with him now was as easy and effortless as slipping on a worn pair of shoes. He just…fit.
We talked about everything and nothing—our favorite colors and most loved books. We talked about what it was like for him growing up in this beautiful place and how the city very much stifled me in more ways than one. We watched the sun set over the river in a blaze of brilliant colors that reflected off the rolling water, doubling its beauty. Before I knew it, darkness had descended and there was nothing to light our tiny slice of peaceful bliss but the moon above us.
I laid on my back, looking up at the stars, and Atlas was on his side, head propped on an elbow, looking at me. When I mentioned how gorgeous the moon was tonight, he stiffened beside me. The hand he’d been leisurely dragging up and down my arm stilled.
I glanced at him, growing concerned at the tight expression on his face as he looked up at the sky.
And then it hit me like a crack of lightning. I shot up, my hands flying to my chest as I stared at him in shock.
“Atlas,” I breathed. My eyes darted over his face, searching for signs of distress. “It’s dark.” I could make out his face because he was so close and the moon was bright, but pitch blackness surrounded us. No signs of light anywhere.
Atlas was afraid of the dark. I’d witnessed that myself.
Atlas tried to smile but it seemed forced. “Yeah, it is.” He ran a hand through his hair.
I reached for his hands, squeezing. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you say something? We could’ve left before it got this dark.”
His fingers intertwined with mine. He glanced down at our hands. “I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with you.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “We could’ve gone somewhere else.”
He shrugged. He looked up at the moon again and the smattering of stars surrounding it. “It’s not so bad.” His eyes shifted down to mine. “Not with you here.” When he smiled this time, it looked genuine.
My heart raced. “We can go. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, Atlas. I—”
But he placed a finger on my lips, silencing me.
“Let me be clear,” he said, voice low. “I want to be here with you. I want to be close to you in all the dark places because it brings me peace. It makes me brave. You, Wren, light up my darkness. You’re like…” He glanced up at the sky again. “You’re like my starlight.”
My ribs ached from the pounding of my heart. His words sunk in, one by one, dropping to the depths of my soul like shiny, precious wishes in a wishing well.
I was speechless in my gratitude for his confession. His willingness to make me feel important. Special. Needed.
And so I leaned into him, our faces growing closer until the tips of our noses touched and our breaths mingled. Then finally, our lips met, and it was as if we’d known each other like this since the beginning of time.
Our lips moved in a slow, tender dance that grew more urgent and needy with each caress. We fell back against the pillows as our skin heated and our hands tangled in each other’s hair in a desperate attempt to draw nearer.
I pulled back as a deep ache in my belly welled, breaking our kiss. We gasped for breath as his molten amber eyes darkened.
A warning siren blared in my mind, one reminding me I probably wasn’t ready for this. For him. But my body, my heart, ached to reach out to his. I wanted to take him with both hands and never let go.
We laid there, staring at each other as our chests heaved with stolen breaths and soaring hearts. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted those hands everywhere. My skin burned at the thought, but he didn’t move. His body was frozen next to me, as if he were made of stone.
I started to think that maybe he didn’t want this…but then it hit me. He was waiting for me. Every muscle of his body was rigid, flexed, as if using all his strength to hold himself back.