Page 49 of Seeking Stars
Liam barely moved; she would have never known he had, except for the warmth of two of his fingers finding their way among hers.
It was her heart that soared high, and she threw an anchor down with all her might.
***
Liam had no idea what he'd just done. He didn't know he'd reached to half-hold her hand until he'd already done it. He laughed it off in his mind; it was such a silly thing, what his fingers had done of their own volition.
"I'm sorry to break the magic of the moment," she said next to him, her fingers still under his, a slight tremor to her voice, "but is there something I can use to warm up? The cold is starting to get to me."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll go grab something."
He got up and got an extra blanket from the back seat. He brought it back and, sitting next to her, accommodated it over her and himself. He laid back, making sure they were both well covered. He turned to his side and so did she. Face to face, he reached with his hand to rub her arm, helping her warm up. Her skin was cold under his hands and she shivered; he moved a bit closer to share heat.
"You'll be good in a minute," he said.
She didn't respond, but her tremors slowly dissolved as they warmed up together. Even as space quieted around them, between them, his hand continued to travel up and down, up and down her arm. Moving a tad slower as seconds ticked by, maybe not so much about friction, now, but a caress.
Fuck. What was he doing? He was definitely crossing the friends-only line. What did it say about him that he didn't want to stop? She'd just told him she wasn't ready to trust. He knew he needed to wait. The documentary was a professional arrangement. But his hands wanted more contact. He wanted to forget himself under the stars and take. Give. Share.
His eyes tried to catch hers, but she didn't look at him; her eyes were cast down. He frowned. Certainty filled his chest, bringing with it a clear vision of what it would be like if they lay in bed under the covers like this: she'd be looking at him and he'd be lost in her eyes.
He wanted her to look at him. He wanted to get lost in her eyes.
He wanted to be in bed with her, like this, side by side.
His attention sharpened. His hand stilled.
She gazed at him from under the ridge of her eyebrows and the connection grabbed him by the breastbone. Time slowed. Her eyes didn't waver; she stared at him with openness, her eyes so dark in the low light they looked black.
She didn't shiver anymore. The agitation in her breathing betrayed the effect the moment had on her. His own breathing quickened, responding to the fast rhythm of hers.
An electrical switch flipped inside of him, completing the circuit: where he'd felt comfort he now felt a pull, a longing to see his desire reflected in her eyes. What might her lips feel against his? The rough ground beneath them disappeared, even the infinite skies above escaped his mind. This feeling had been right beneath his skin, so familiar yet unknown; he'd been feeling it for days but had not, could not…
Her lips parted. They'd feel soft, he was sure, and warm. He found himself wetting his, the pull of his want going taut and yet he resisted it— pulled back against it just for tonight— until he could figure things out— make sure it was what he'd been waiting for— because once he tasted her mouth, he didn't think he'd ever stop.
"When we met," she said, her voice soft, "I was wearing a Queen shirt. You said you were partial to Brian."
"I did," he confirmed, tearing his eyes away from her mouth to gaze into her eyes again. He was sure now, her eyes shone with longing.
"I get it now. Brian is an astrophysicist."
Damn. She could see straight through him if she could make that connection.
His lips tingled for hers. His heart fluttered. His blood rushed in his ears.
He hesitated. He'd promised himself he'd live his life with intention. Especially in the case of love. With the way she could see into him, this thing between them deserved more than an impulsive kiss.
"We should head back," he said, before he let himself press his lips against hers and to hell with everything.
"It's getting late," she agreed.
Despite their words, neither moved. It took them several minutes to get going, as if she felt as torn as he did… but she was the first to pull away.
Putting a hand on his chest, she turned to her back and sat up; reaching back around her neck, she guided her long hair to cascade over one of her shoulders. From where he was on the ground, he thought she'd taken a deep breath.
"Thanks for this. It was lovely." She didn't look at him.
"Yeah, it was."
