Page 71 of The Downside of Love
My heart pauses in my chest, as she bites her bottom lip, her chest heaving, the look of indecision crossing her eyes.
“When . . . what?” I ask, holding my breath, calming my overactive imagination and tamping down any insane thoughts of what I wish would come out of her mouth.
“When,” She twists her hands together, her eyes drifting away for a second but then she fixes them back on mine. “When I want you.”
When she . . .wants me?
I blink a few times, the words not quite registering in my mind.She wants me.
The girl of I’ve dreamt for well over a year, wants me.
Still gripping my items tightly, I’m dumbfounded, struck to my goddamn soul with an arrow straight from her quiver.
She wants me.
Did I hear that right?
“Say something,” Rory says, looking more nervous than ever. But I have no clue what to fucking say. Do I tell her I love her? Do I tell her I saw her first, that I stepped aside, despite wanting her more than anything? Do I tell her that she is not only my best friend, but the woman of my dreams? Do I tell her that every fucking night since the day I met her, I’ve thought of her, I’ve dreamt of holding her until she’s drifted to sleep?
Do I ask her if she’s sure? Because I swear to Christ if this is some kind of sick joke, I won’t be able to make it through this. My heart won’t take rejection fromher. My pride . . . my soul would be broken for eternity.
“Stryder.” Her eyes search mine, and when I don’t move or say anything, her bottom lip trembles. “Forget it.” She waves me off. “That was stupid of me to say. Maybe you should leave.” She steps aside and tries to open the door behind her to let me out.
My need for her stutters in my chest, as I watch my opportunity slowly start to slip away.
This is it. I can either be all in, or I can walk out that door, honoring the unspoken bro-code I share with Colby, walking down the path of the broken and miserable.
Or I can take a step toward a future I’ve dreamt of, a future that holds promise for me, that gives me something to live for, something to cherish, something to take care of. A life that gives me fucking purpose.
Purpose.
That’s all I want, a reason to exist beyond myself, and that reason is Rory.
“Please, leave,” Rory says, head tilted down, shielding her eyes from me.
Without a second thought, realization hitting me hard in the chest, I drop everything to the floor, my bag hitting the hardwood with a loud clunk, echoing against the silence. Stepping forward, closing the space between us, I cup both her cheeks, tilt her mouth up, and take what I’ve wanted for so long, marking her as mine.
My mouth descends to hers, pressing my lips into her softness. Eyes close, body melts, worries are erased. Instead . . . I feel.
The gentle feel of her curious mouth against mine.
The tentative grip of her hands on my forearms.
The subtle lift onto her toes to get closer.
Heart hammering.
A low moan.
A sweep of her tongue.
A sweep of mine.
A tangle of fingers and then . . . I crash into her, pressing her against the door, blocking her from escape.Mine.
Her hands glide up my arms to the back of my neck, looping, securing our connection, urging me to realize this isn’t a dream. I’m not the only one harboring feelings. The looks and glances I’ve received over the last few weeks haven’t been my imagination.She wants me.
Our mouths fuse, mold, melt together, as our tongues seek more, tangling together in an epic connection, changing my entire perspective on life forever. In the darkness of this summer night, with Rory’s lips demanding more from me, I can feel the grey hues of my life start to morph into something of importance, like this kiss is the beginning of the most important chapter of my life.
