Page 34 of Unravel Me

“Can I—” We speak at the same time, and both release tiny laughs. I trace his lips to his eyes, unsure where to look, unsure my ribcage can hold my hammering heart much longer.

“What were you going to say? You first.” My voice is low, breathy.

His palm brushes the side of my jaw until he’s cupping my face gently. I nearly forget the basic functions of my body as he boxes me in against his truck.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his parted lips already so close to mine, I can almost feel them, taste them. I nod softly in his grip, my eyes shuttering closed as his blue eyes settle on my lips. Rhett’s other hand slides up the small of my back, pulling me into him. I melt in his warm grip, breathe in his woodsy scent, and let out a tiny gasp as his lips brush gently against mine. They are full and soft, and all I can focus on is how I need more. Rhett snakes his other hand up, my face cupped between his calloused strong hands, and I grip the front of his shirt, releasing the built-up tension through my parted lips. The warmth of his tongue caresses my lips and I shudder under his grip.

His touch makes me forget where I am. And who I am. A single kiss from this man sends a ripple of electricity through me, but when he pulls away, breathless, all I can do is smile like a fool, lost in the intensity of the moment.

“Thank you,” I breathe out, and he cocks his head back slightly.

“You’re thanking me…for what?”

“For stalking me.”

This gets him to laugh, and the sound reaches places of my cold heart I’m not sure have ever been touched.

“I never thought I'd get you to say yes to a date.” He cheeses hard, his eyes crinkling as he looks down at me.

Through hazy eyes, I slide my hand down his arm, feeling his corded muscles, and grab his hand. I squeeze it before dropping it, even though I feel unsteady in my footing.

Because as I turn towards the trunk and murmur, “I should be getting back,” the only thing running through my head is that I’ve never been kissed like that.

Rhett starts up the engine, and I sit closer to him this time on the bench seat of his old pickup truck. We make small talk as we drive through the night, and his hand finds mine in the dark, holding it gently.

I answer his questions while struggling to silence the thoughts swirling in my mind about what this meant.

Because that kiss felt like the first one that made time stop, like they talk about in books and movies. It was the kind that made me forget everything except the other person connected to me. Everything I thought I knew about love, about relationships, I’m beginning to question. I’m beginning to wonder if I know anything at all. Other than the fact that I’ll never forget about tonight. Rhett rescued me again.

That’s more than any other man ever has. Even the ones who claimed to love to.

If tonight was a onetime thing, I’m grateful, because for one night I got to be a different Audrey. I got to be carefree, away from the people and things that weigh me down.

And the man next to me is responsible for that.

Chapter twenty

Audrey

Icheck my phone three times before I accept the fact I won’t be getting any more sleep. Nothing new there.

The apartment is silent at 5 a.m., but I’m itching to get busy, so I shuffle into the kitchen and switch on the under-cabinet lights. They cast enough light to see what I'm doing without breaking the peaceful magic of the early morning. Early mornings before anyone else is stirring are my favorite. Usually, I can think the clearest at that time, too…usually. But this morning my mind can’t process anything besides a man with rough hands, and blue eyes, and soft lips. So, I do what I haven’t been able to do in a very long time.

Like muscle memory, it begins. The clinking of metal bowls, a bag of flour thudding on the countertop, the oven beeping as it heats up. I fasten my hair back in a clip, roll up the sleeves of my sweatshirt, and pull up a recipe on my phone.

White chocolate macadamia nut cookies with cranberries; one of my favorites. If I ever opened a bakery, I’d have a variety of unique cookies. Opening a bakery is just a daydream of mine, like when people daydream about becoming a popstar or something crazy like that. Maybe in another life.

I beat the sugar and eggs together while fighting off thoughts of his mouth hovering inches from mine. I find myself subconsciously running my fingers along my lips, as if I could still feel him there. Last night, when I said goodbye outside Penny’s apartment building, he kissed me again; long and hard, hungry, and wanting.

The kind of kiss I could easily become addicted to.

Shaking my head, I scoop the cookie dough onto the sheets, and quickly the apartment smells sweet and sugary.

Baking eases my mind—or it used to. But after finishing the cookies and packaging them up neatly in containers, I am still restless.

So, I gather more ingredients and make something I’ve never made before. For a dog who isn’t mine. And for reasons I was not ready to dissect.

It would be ridiculous to show up at Rhett’s house with cookies and dog treats a day after our first date…right?