Page 51 of The Upside of Falling
Looking up through her eyelashes, she peers into my soul, those green eyes of hers splitting me in half, leaving my heart in her hands.
“You’re the only guy who’s ever made me feel like I’m actually worth something.”
I tamp down the anger, because this is no time to be angry over the dickheads she dated previously. “You must have dated some real idiots then, because I saw your worth the minute I walked out onto the deck at the party.”
She pushes the food to the side and runs her fingers over one of my thighs, the sensation sending a bolt of arousal straight to my cock. It might have been a while since I’ve been with someone, but this is different. This is Rory. I don’t just want to have sex with her. I want to worship every last inch of her body. “The party you didn’t want to go to. What if we’d never met there? Do you think we would ever have met?”
If we hadn’t met already I doubt it. And that realization is startling, because I was one more “no” away from not meeting her. I would have missed out on so much. “Probably not. I would have kept my head in my books and stayed in Stryder’s pool house until break was over.”
“My little bookworm.” She tips my chin and then stands up. After throwing away our trash, she takes me back to the park, but far away from the rink, to a little bench surrounded by trees. The cool metal of the bench gives the back of my legs an initial shock, reminding me of the cold temperatures, but doesn’t last long. Snuggling in close, Rory holds on tightly to my arm and rests her head on my chest.
“Isn’t it weird that we grew up in the same town, never went to the same school and never ran into each other, but instead we met at a random mountain party?”
“Meant to be.” I clear my throat. I’ve wanted to ask this question but have been cautious about bringing it up, not wanting to push Rory too hard. But for some reason, I can’t get it out of my head. So in this peaceful setting, I decide to ask, hoping for the answer I’m looking for. “You told me at the party that you don’t have a boyfriend, but I need to know if . . . well, would you see anyone else if you were with me?”
Her hand against my chest, she lifts her face up to look at me, a curve in her lips. “No. Would you?”
“Hell, no.” I use the hand wrapped around her body to pull her in close. It falls from her back to her thigh, gripping her tightly.
“Plan on keeping it that way?”
“What do you think?” I nod at her, my gaze locked on her lips.
She shifts in my grasp, her ass now cupped in my hand, her leggings leaving nothing to the imagination. Firm, yet more than a handful and devoid of any panty lines. She’s going to slowly kill me.
“I think I’m yours,” she answers, cupping my cheek, her fingers running along the scruff I’ve allowed to grow out on my jaw.I know without a doubt that I want her to be mine. Desperately.
With the promise of exclusivity hanging between us, I lean forward, a whisper of a breath from her mouth, the open sky above blanketed in midnight blue. “You’re mine,” I answer, right before I lower my lips to hers, kissing her so fucking passionately that the rest of the world around us falls away.
This is where I want to be—in Rory’s arms, her lips melded with mine, her heart pounding to the rhythm of mine, because right here in this moment, there isn’t one thing that’s trying to eat away at me. Memories of my childhood vanish. Worry about whether I’ll make flight school is over. But the feeling of someone being a part of my life is perfectly overpowering.
Chapter Twenty-One
RORY
“What are you doing?” I stretch out over my bed, dead tired from my long day, my muscles feeling like noodles, and my ability to move slowly dissipating with every second I spend lying on top of my bed.
Five classes today. That’s five hours of working out, pushing people to go their hardest, setting an example. I picked up two extra classes, and then after the gym, I spent the rest of my day massaging clients, adding some extra appointments in so I can have tomorrow off. Needless to say, my last massage appointment was most likely disappointed from my lack of pressure. Everything in me was cramping, and it was the slowest hour of my life, as I wished for salad tongs and a Tonka truck like Ross Geller used on the episode where he massaged an old man. Pretty sure the wheels of a child’s toy would have felt better than my feather hands that kept cramping every two seconds.
Note to self: marathon working is not for me.
“Just finished reading a book I’ve been wanting to tackle for the past few months but haven’t had time.” His voice sounds so freaking sexy over the phone. Almost like permanent morning voice, deep and rumbly with a hint of scratch in it, which I’m going to assume is from all the yelling he’s had to do this past year.
“If you tell me it’s a book about calculus or something like that, I think we might have to break up.”
He chuckles. “Break up, huh? It’s going to be that easy to lose you?” There is a hint of worry in his voice, even though he’s trying to be playful.
Wanting to ease his mind, I say, “No, you’re stuck with me. It’s going to take your entire squadron prying me off your sexy body to get rid of me.”
“Sexy? Hmm, I like that.”
“It’s true.” I pause. “Hey, you have an iPhone, why don’t you FaceTime me?”
“I’m shirtless in bed,” he counters.As if that’s an issue.
“Uhhh, and the problem with that is?”
He laughs. “I didn’t want you to think I was naked or something.”
