Page 120 of What We Break
That's the kind of thing people say before life kicks them in the teeth. I know that. I've lived that. But his hand is warm against my face and he's looking at me like he means every single syllable, and I'm done bracing myself. Wondering if this will last. Or if I'll screw it up.
I'm thirty-two years old, and I've finally figure out what I want.
So I'm going to grab it with both hands.
"Okay," I say.
Reid blinks. "Okay?"
"Yeah. Okay. Side by side. I'm in."
His smile is blinding. "Just like that?"
Yep. I will die a happy woman, preferably many many decades from now, if Reid Garrison looks at me for the rest of my life. "Just like that."
He kisses me then. Soft at first. Gentle. The kind of kiss that says I'm glad you're safe, I'm glad you're here, I'm glad you're mine.
Then it shifts.
His hand slides into my hair, and the kiss deepens. I lean into him, fingers curling into the damp hair at the back of his neck, and thesound he makes vibrates against my lips. His hands tighten on my hips and he walks me backward until I hit the wall next to his dresser.
"Is this okay?" he murmurs against my mouth. "We don't have to—I know it's been a long day?—"
"Reid."
"Yeah?"
"Stop talking."
He grins against my lips. "Yes ma'am."
His mouth is on mine, urgent and hungry, and I can feel the hard length of him pressed against my hip through his jeans.
Want. God, I want him so much it's making me dizzy.
"Bed," I gasp against his mouth. "We should probably?—"
"Yeah," Reid breathes, but instead of moving he kisses me again, deeper this time, his hands fisted in my sweater like he's afraid I might disappear.
The desperate way he's holding onto me makes my heart race. Like he needs me as much as I need him. Like this is just as overwhelming for him as it is for me.
His sheets are rumpled, the thin blanket tossed at the end of the bed the way he left it this morning, and the sight makes my stomach flip. We're really doing this. Finally. I don't think I've ever been more ready for anything in my life.
"Reid," I manage, and he pulls back just enough to look at me. His pupils are blown wide and he's breathing hard, hair completely messed up from my fingers.
I did that. I made him look this wrecked, this desperate. The thought sends heat shooting through me.
"Right. Bed." He takes my hand and pulls me the three steps across the room, but the second we reach it he's turning back to me, hands cupping my face. "Laine, are you?—"
"If you ask me if I'm sure one more time, I'm going to lose my mind," I say, with a breathless laugh. "Yes, I'm sure. Yes, I want this. Yes, I want you."
Reid's smile is pure relief mixed with want. "Thank god, because I've been thinking about this for?—"
I yank him to me, and we fall onto the bed, legs tangled, and nearly bump heads. We break apart laughing at our own clumsiness.
"Whoops," I say, grinning up at him.
I love this. I love that we can be desperate for each other and still laugh when we're awkward. That even in this moment, we're still us.
