“What are we doing?” I asked, pulling back for air, as my heart was about to explode in my chest.
He pulled me down by the nape of my neck. “Whatever we’re doing? Whatever this is? I don’t want it to ever”—he kissed my lips, sucking on my bottom lip—“ever”—he flicked his tongue over my top lip, giving it equal attention—“stop.”
I sighed and melted into his kisses, into his hold, into this passion.
And a little voice in the back of my head agreed.
Me too. I don’t want this to ever stop.
* * *
We were either holding hands or holding each other as the bodyguards led us out of the arena through the back door and toward the waiting limo.
As soon as we slipped into the back seat, he pulled me onto his lap and nuzzled his nose against my neck. He wrapped his arms around my stomach, and I giggled like a teenage girl in love for the first time.
I was on an absolute high.
I turned to face him and placed my hands on his cheeks. “This has been amazing.” I pecked his lips sweetly, then pulled back, staring deeply into his eyes, which reminded me of the heavens. “Most of the things I missed have now come to life, and it’s all because of you.”
He met my lips again. “You’re welcome.”
I rubbed at his jaw and rested my forehead against his as I closed my eyes. “I’m feeling a little buzzed. Maybe I had a tad too much alcohol. More than I normally have.”
His lips formed a grin. “I told you to slow down. Drink more water.”
“I don’t want to stop. I want to drink more,” I told him. “I want to always feel this happy, have this crazy-high buzz.”
The corners of his lips tipped upward. “Why?”
“Because I’ll have to wake up from this. I’ll have to face reality.”
Then, my emotions bombarded me like a waterfall, the taste of real life coming as soon as we landed at the airport. There was no way to go back to how we had been before, but I’d be lying if I thought we could work out when we got back to Illinois, that it would be roses and butterflies and hearts. Because of Brandy … because of Alec … because of our families.
“What’s going to happen after this?” I asked, my heart sinking from my chest to my stomach.
“This.” He kissed my lips. “And more of this.” His lips grazed my cheek, making a final last stop on my temple.
“But how can it?” My voice was breaking, and that little high from my buzz dimmed.
“Because I want it to. Because you want it to.” He said it like it was the most practical thing in the world.
He kissed the tip of my nose, the small gesture sending tingles through my body. At my silence, a small laugh escaped his lips.
“Is this where you tell me that I don’t know you? That it’s going too fast?” When I didn’t answer, he tipped up my chin. “Well, this is where I tell you, I’ve known you for years, if only in passing, if only with our few-worded conversations. But this is where I also tell you that I’ve gotten to know the real you over the past month, slowly and surely knowing that I like you, Sydney. And I want to see where this goes.”
The first of my tears fell down my face, and the chuckle rumbling from his chest wasn’t something I appreciated.
“It’s the emotional crying buzz that follows the high,” he said. Like he knew women.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m used to this. The tears.”
I peered up at him, almost pouting. “I bet. All the women who’ve cried a million tears over you.” I pushed his hands away and tried to get off his lap. I needed space to think, to breathe.
“Don’t be like that,” he said, pulling me back into his lap. He nuzzled his nose against my neck again, inhaling deeply, breathing me in. His voice was a tiny whisper against my neck. “I have a feeling … this is different.” He hugged me tight against him, so tightly that I was immobile in his arms—not like I minded at all. “I have a feeling that if anyone is going to shed tears in this relationship, it’s going to be me.”
His hold only tightened, and I rested against him, wishing and hoping that no tears would be shed.