“Wow,” Charlie whispers, his voice a faint breath right against the curve of my ear, as I curl up against his chest.
Above us, more stars than I ever guessed you’d be able to see from the city spiral past. And as we watch, one, then two, then a whole flurry of shooting stars, or meteors—I never did learn exactly what the difference was—streak past, turning the whole sky into a lightshow. Charlie runs his hands through my hair absently, leaning his chin against the top of my head.
I smile, and I can feel his chest rise and fall with his steady breaths. Underneath, I can also feel his heartbeat, a pulse that races and skips in tune with my own. Especially when I shift against him, adjusting my body, shuffling a little bit closer.
“This was a fun night,” I murmur, my voice echoing against his chest.
“I have a feeling any night would be fun with you,” he replies, and the words make my heart tighten in my chest, my veins singing with anticipation. I tilt my chin back, my eyes searching out his, because damn the meteor shower, his are the sparks I want to seek out in the darkness, the eyes I want to gaze into for as long as I possibly can.
He leans in, one eyebrow raised in a silent question, our faces inches apart, the air between us electric. Finally, when I can barely stand it anymore, I reach up and cup his chin with one hand, the stubble of his barely-there beard tickling my palm, and I pull him down into a slow, searing kiss.
His lips melt into mine. He tastes like the chocolate cake we were just eating, sweet and dark and heady. He’s like shot of whiskey, going straight to my head, making my brain hum, my blood warm up.
I want to stay right here forever. I want to sink into him and lose all track of time and space. I want his arms around me again, his body pressed up against mine fully. I want to tear away the clothes that separate us. But more than that, I want to get to know him. To peer past the guy staring down at me, and get inside his head.
“What?” Charlie asks when we break apart, and I realize that I’ve been staring at him in silence.
“Just wondering what you’re thinking about,” I admit, a faint smile on my face.
He grins right back, easily. “I was thinking that there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now than on this rooftop, with this gorgeous, sexy girl in my arms.”
My face flushes with heat. But rather than twisting away from him or trying to deny the compliment like I normally would, like my usual instinctive reaction … I let myself accept it. I sink closer to him, tilting my face to press my cheek against his chest once more. “You aren’t what I expected, Charlie Cross,” I murmur.
“Neither are you, Lila Baker,” he replies, and the thrum of his voice sends a trill of pleasure through my body, dancing down my spine.
“I have to admit, this was a pretty good first date,” I add. “Though, I wonder if I’ll need to mention in my article how, shall we say, untraditionally you behaved…”
He chuckles and leans down to kiss the crown of my head. “If you did, you would probably also have to admit that you weren’t exactly ladylike yourself. And that I appreciated your misbehavior just as much.” He smirks, wide enough that when I tilt my chin back to peer up at him, I catch the corner of it.
I lean up and kiss that corner of his smile, until he turns to capture my whole mouth with his. It’s a long while before we break apart again, and when we do, we’re nose to nose, our lips barely a breath apart, our eyes locked. “Maybe I can keep a few pieces of this article just between us,” I whisper, smiling.
“Maybe you should keep more than a few a secret.” He grins. “Because our night is only just getting started…”
8
We finish paying for our dinner—or rather, Charlie pays, because he nabs the check before I can even so much as glance at it, something that drives me crazy. But I can’t lie, it feels pretty good to be taken care of, as much as I normally hate that sort of thing. I make enough money; I can afford to split meals. But something about this whole traditional marriage set-up has me acting in ways I never would have considered before; agreeing to things I never thought would float my boat. Letting a guy take care of me, at least for one night, doesn’t feel as strange as I thought it would.
Huh.
I try not to dwell too hard on that thought, or on how good it feels to let Charlie take my hand and lead me out of the restaurant. This is just temporary, I have to keep reminding myself. It’s just for work. An article you’re working on. View him like you would a source or an interesting fact you’re researching to write about. Nothing more.