Page 85 of The Time It Takes
He looked at me so softly that my heart did a little flip. “You really took the time to record all of these songs on your piano?”
I didn’t know why he sounded so surprised, but I nodded anyway.
Oliver leaned over and placed the sweetest kiss a girl could receive. I could still feel the lingering sensation of his lips on my forehead long after he pulled away.
“Thank you.” His voice was hoarse, but it felt like velvet caressing my skin.
He scooted back against his headboard, and I followed, dropping my head onto his shoulder as he plugged headphones into the cassette player. He took one side and handed me the other. When the music started to play, he rested his head on top of mine. His arm came down between my legs, and I leaned into him completely. Throughout each song, he gave my knee encouraging squeezes.
After a couple of songs, he rose from the bed pulling me with him.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s my birthday and I want to dance with you until my feet ache and then I think I might kiss you until my lips do too.”
I didn’t bother to hide the surprise on my face and the realization of what I’d drunkenly admitted a few hours ago. My breath caught in my throat as he looked at me.
He slid the cassette player into the pocket of his sweatpants.
I peered over at the window, but Oliver must have closed the curtains at some point while I slept. Though it was quiet—the only sound coming from the headphone in my right ear—I could still see the lights dancing underneath the dark curtains and hear the distant bass of the music. Other than that, the room was only lit by an eighteen-year-old night light in the corner of the room.
He pulled me close, and I rested my temple on the warmth of his chest. I could feel his heartbeat beneath my ear pick up speed and I was once again drowning in the smell of him.
He was my favorite everything too.
Slowly, his fingers danced around the fabric of the shirt I was wearing until the tips of Oliver’s fingers were tracing the skin on my lower back. I shivered at the sensation, which caused him to pull me impossibly closer. My body reacted in a way a friend shouldn’t react to a friend’s touch. Though, there was something less friendly about this one—this moment.
“Happy birthday, Ollie,” I whispered.
“You said that already, Damsel.”
My voice shook unevenly. “I know.”
He let out a breathy laugh that made me think he was entirely calm, but his hold on me tightened. I sent prayers to the universe for him to put his lips on mine as we swayed in each other’s arms. The only part of him that touched me were his hands and something else—a thing I was starting to believe was his soul.
I was a fool.
I was a fool.
I was a fool to want him this way.
Even knowing this, it didn’t make me want him any less.
I lifted my head off his chest and stared up at him through my lashes. We were so close that his nose grazed mine.
“Tell me to kiss you until the sun rises,” he murmured, and I felt his words on my lips.
“Ollie.” I didn’t know why I said his name. It sounded strange, almost both a question and a plea.
He didn’t make any move and I knew what he was waiting for. I leaned forward so that my lips were brushing his.
“Kiss me like they do in the novels we read,” I whispered back.
Then his mouth was on mine, and I gasped at the impact.
And it was like dancing in the rain, the taste of honey and sugar. His tongue ran across my lips, and I parted them, letting him consume me. He could have all of me. It was soft and then hard. It was steady and sweet. It was devouring and needing. It was entirely us.
I realized then that I never wanted him to stop.
