Never Standing Still (The Never Duet #1)(54)


His lips caressed mine, slowly, his hand holding on to the back of my neck with firm desperation. Then his lips moved over my cheek, onto my neck, as he hugged me again.

“God, I love you, Kalli.”

His words were hurried, pushed out, like he couldn’t contain them any longer. They sounded like a relief, as if he’d been holding on to something painful and releasing the words was an assuagement. He sighed and pulled me even closer into him, his thumb rubbing up and down along the side of my neck.

“I’m sorry, but I love you,” he said, this time sounding a little more broken than before.

“You’re sorry?” I whispered, not really sure what he had to be sorry for.

“I mean, I’m sorry I just blurted it out here, at the airport, around a bunch of strangers.” He pulled back but didn’t let go of me. “But I’m not sorry I said it. I’ll never be sorry for loving you.”

His eyes were on mine again. His eyes were the first thing I’d ever noticed about him. And it was perfect that I was looking into them when I said, “I love you, too.”

I could tell he was surprised I’d said it back, but the surprise only lasted a moment before I was in his arms again, being kissed as if he were going off to war. It was overwhelming, but in a good way. I let myself feel everything.

“You make me so happy,” he said between kisses, playfully pecking. I laughed because the happiness was contagious and immense. It was everywhere and I made sure I tucked the fragment of time away in my memory, because I knew I wouldn’t always be that happy. “I’m going to do everything I can to make you as happy as I am in this moment,” he said, his voice lower, more serious.

“Why are you so sure you’re the happiest person here?” I selfishly ran my hand over his stubble, wanting to feel it one last time before he got on his plane. “What if I’m actually happier than you right now?” My smile actually hurt, it was so big.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget how beautiful you look in this moment, happiness radiating from you.” He fingered a tress of my hair, then leaned in and kissed me again, slow and deep. If I hadn’t been sure I loved him before that kiss, it definitely would have convinced me. He pulled away and licked his lips, as if he wanted to savor and keep every last part of me he could before we were apart, and my body reacted to the image of his tongue on his lips, tasting me.

“I should probably go,” he said quietly, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks.

“Okay,” I responded, but felt the sting of the tears I’d managed to push away come back with vigor. The sudden and familiar feelings of being left behind came over me.

“Hey,” he said as he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “This isn’t goodbye. I’m leaving but I’m not going anywhere, all right? I’ll call you as soon as I land and it’ll be just like it was before, only better, because now we’re together. All right?”

“Okay,” I said again, only that time I was definitely crying. I believed him, I did. I believed he loved me and wanted me, but there was that irrational part of my brain that wanted to ruin it all.

He saw me start to lose my composure and leaned forward, his lips pressed to my ear, hand once again behind my neck, and said, “I love being tied to you, Kalli.”

The tears came on heavily at his words, streaking down my face, but I managed to keep my crying only to tears. I kept my mouth pressed firmly closed because I knew if I opened it for any reason, only sobs would escape. Riot seemed to understand, pressing a kiss to my forehead, then mouthing the words, “I love you” before turning and walking away.

I watched him until he disappeared, then I got into my car and let the cries I’d been holding in explode out of me. I sat, like a lunatic, crying at the departures ramp at the airport. I probably wasn’t the first person to do it, but I was convinced I was the most devastated. When I’d managed to cry until I was hiccoughing, when my face was sufficiently red and blotchy, with the sleeve of my shirt soaked with tears and snot, I was finally calm enough to drive away.





Chapter Sixteen


He’s a Gift

Weeks flew by after Riot left me at the airport. Six weeks of phone calls, video chats, Skype dates, and numerous scandalous phone sex episodes. The phone calls were less sexy if I was at home, which I appreciated, but when I was away for work it was almost as if Riot couldn’t wait to get me alone on the phone.

Riot had started filming his guest spot on the network crime drama and I loved hearing all about the work and how much he enjoyed it. He was, of course, nervous about his first big role, but it sounded like the director and producers really liked him, so he was hoping for a permanent spot.

“How was your day?” he asked me one night on the phone. I was in my hotel room in Atlanta, Georgia, looking out the window.

“It was all right. I was hoping to walk around the city tonight, but it’s rainy and cold. I could walk in the rain back in Seattle, so I think I’ll just stay in.”

“Good,” he replied, and I could hear him falling onto a couch or a bed as he made a slight ‘oof’ noise. “Wanna watch a movie?”

I’d never been in a relationship before, so I wasn’t clued in to how difficult it could be in comparison to relationships where people lived within driving distance of each other. But I could tell that I was nearing the end of my rope as far as how long I wanted to go without seeing Riot. Even with daily phone conversations and almost constant texting, I was beginning to ache for him.

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