Never Tied Down (The Never Duet #2)(25)
“I think I could make time to see a movie with you,” I answered, trying not to sound too eager.
“Great,” he said, his smile just as brilliant and beaming as I knew mine was.
“Great,” I mimicked.
“I guess we should both get back to work soon.” His eyes didn’t leave mine as he said the words and his smile didn’t dim at all either.
“I guess we should.”
“Have I mentioned how glad I am that you’re here?”
The sudden change in topic and also the rawness of his words caught me off guard. My breath faltered, the last lungful of air stopped, waiting for me to relieve the tension and exhale. I opened my mouth to try to respond, to fill the empty space between us, but he spoke first.
“I don’t know where this is headed, and I’m trying to not expect anything, but Kal, it’s nice to just sit here with you and see you smiling. Come what may, I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad I’m here too,” was all I could manage, and even that was whispered and gravelly. The breath that had been stalled was now a slightly painful lump in my throat and I tried to push it down, not wanting to ruin our happy moment with tears. But Riot’s words had done something to me, opened something up. I didn’t want to expect anything either, but I wanted to be happy, to be hopeful. This was the first time in eight years I’d been stationary, the first time I’d been standing still. I had a long-term job, a home in the same city as my job; nothing about my life in that moment was temporary. Everything felt heavier, weighed me down, held me in place.
Months ago, that feeling—the weight of all the connections, obligations, and expectations—would have caused me to panic, sent me into a tailspin and I would have picked up, moved, and run away. But sitting in that coffee shop with Riot, making plans to see his family, knowing he’d be there in a week, or a month, well, it lit me up. It warmed me. Caused parts of me that had been frozen for so long to thaw and melt away. The heat, both the heat I felt coming from him and the heat I felt inside myself, was breathtaking. This was the second time Riot had chased away my anxiety, fought the darkness and brought me into the light, and both times he’d done it with so much compassion and understanding, it was beyond amazing. It also wasn’t a coincidence. It wasn’t a coincidence that Riot had been the only man to make me safe and secure enough to feel. It was fate.
I opened my mouth again, hoping my brain could form words enough to explain to him how, in that moment, I was beyond grateful for the unyielding support he’d always offered, even when that support came in the form of leaving me alone. But before I could tell him anything, before I could explain the enormity of what I was feeling, he stood up and smiled at me. He waited for me to follow, his expression telling me that he already knew everything I was feeling, that words weren’t necessary, that my being there was enough explanation.
So I stood too. And I shivered when his hand met the small of my back as he guided me toward the exit, relishing the fact that my body was literally shivering just from one touch of his hand. We were both trying to play it smart, keep our hearts safe, but my body was leaps and bounds ahead of my head, and my body wanted his. He walked me to the entrance of my soundstage and I felt his hand leave my back only to gently grip my arm at the elbow. He turned me toward him, then his hands moved up my arm, over my shoulder, and stopped with his fingers tenderly wrapping around the side of my neck. He was just inches away and his scent was swirling around me, and my body went from wanting his, to aching for it.
I couldn’t help the sigh the escaped me when he pressed his lips to the crown of my head. My eyes closed, I exhaled, and my body melted into his. My front pressed into his, my free hand coming to rest on his hip, and I let the connection between us wash over me. Even after all the months apart, he was my home.
“I’ll text you,” he said quietly against my hair.
“Okay,” I whispered, my fingers curling in at his waist, his t-shirt gathering in my clutch. He pressed a chaste kiss to my head again, then pulled away, taking his body and his shirt with him, even if I silently objected.
“Later,” he said coolly, as he backed away from me.
“Bye.” I brought my eyes up to meet his. He winked at me and I nearly passed out as all the blood rushed down from my head and left me dizzy.
The light-headed feeling stayed with me until Wednesday, only exacerbated by the frequent texting happening between us, which was filled with flirting and sexual tension. When I met him outside the theater on the lot, the dizziness was still present but one smile from him and I was spinning.
“You made it,” he said with a smile as I stopped just a step or two away from him.
“I’m here. Ready to be scared to death.”
He tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brow. “You don’t like scary movies?”
“Used to, but then life got real and I didn’t need anything else to be afraid of.” The honest words flowed, surprising even me. I couldn’t help but feel lighter after I’d said them, almost enjoying that I’d shared something with him I normally wouldn’t have, and wasn’t panicking about it. I’d told him something real. Something true. I’d given him a tiny piece of me to hold on to.
It made it all worth it when he seemed to mentally tuck the information away, turned toward me, wrapped his arm lightly around my shoulder, and said, “I’ll be sure to protect you.”