Page 138 of Embracing the Beat
MICHAELA
“Ishould probably go. Let you get some sleep.” He shifts, and I all but lunge for him, wrapping my arms around his neck and keeping him in place.
“No!”
He opens his mouth to say something, and I press my fingers against his lips, halting whatever he was going to say.
“You got to say your piece. Now it’s my turn.”
He nods, and I move my hand back to clasp with the other one behind his neck. The emotion in his eyes connects with my heart, with everything I feel for him. And I have no idea how to express the sentiments pressing against my lips, but I take a deep breath and let memories swim to the surface.
“When we were little, you were like the best older brother. You didn’t tease me like Sawyer or Lucas, and you watched out for me. And I loved you for it. At some point, that love turned into a crush. I couldn’t look at you without my tongue feeling thick, my words trapped behind all these emotions. But you still showed interest in me. You asked me about school and my friends. About singing. When you left for college, I felt like my world was ending. The drama of a pre-teen girl.” I roll my eyes and smile while amusement lights in West’s gaze. “I crushed on you forever,” I admit. “And I hated Ashley when you brought her to our house that Fourth of July.”
I spent that entire holiday locked in my room, hating the girl who was able to touch the man I always imagined would someday confess his undying love for me.
“I was so jealous I couldn’t see straight. But I had to resign myself to the fact that she was with you, and my crush was only a crush. That I ‘loved’ you like I loved Channing Tatum or the Hemsworth brothers.” I want to laugh at the mutinous glare he sends my way. “Don’t be jealous. I have more to say.
“I admit, the crush faded as I got older, relegated to my imagination. I squeaked through school and then thought all my dreams were coming true when I signed with Reverb. Dreams. Ha. More like nightmares.” I shudder, and his arms tighten around my waist.
“But everything—Reverb, tabloids, Tucker, Brad—all of that led me home. I let myself in the house that night and figured Mom and Dad would expect me to explain why I was home. Why my dream was dying. Until you stumbled into the kitchen. And every memory of you looking out for me, of keeping me safe, filled me with a warmth I hadn’t felt in years.
“With that warmth, my crush came back too. In case you’re unaware, you’re really sexy.”
He smirks but remains silent, and I squirm as new memories zing through my blood. “I could tell you were fighting your attraction to me, but I was old enough to know what I wanted. What I wanted was you, and you were no match for my stubbornness.”
Laughter vibrates his chest.
“I didn’t plan on getting pregnant. And I definitely hadn’t planned on falling in love with you—the real, adult kind of love versus the teenage crush—as quickly and completely as I did. But I didn’t anticipate you. This time it was me who didn’t stand a chance. Which was why what you said that day hurt so much—”
“I’m sorry—” he interrupts, and I cover his mouth with my hand.
“Still talking.” My words end on a gasp as he licks my palm. “What I didn’t realize is that all of that led me to this moment right here. And you know what’s important about this moment?”
He shakes his head, and nerves scatter the butterflies to swirl in my tummy.
“This is the moment I finally tell you that I love you. From pseudo big brother to crush to lover, how I feel has only grown stronger over time. And that love isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”
I lift my hand, replacing it with my lips, nibbling at his until they part to let my tongue slide along his. Warm hands grip my hips and shift me to straddle him as he deepens the kiss, rubbing me against his growing erection and pulling a moan from deep within me. The friction is pure bliss.
My eyes flutter open to find concern lining his face.
“What?” I ask, confused by the worried expression.
“Are you okay?”
“Huh?”
“You made a noise. Did I hurt you?”
I smile, leaning forward to nip at his earlobe, loving the groan that resonates from his chest to mine.
“I’ve moaned before,” I remind him, rotating my hips against his lap. “Never been a cause for concern.”
“But earlier—”
“I’m fine,” I promise him. “More than fine. And I missed you.”
He holds my hips hostage, stopping my movement.
