Come As You Are(47)
I’m swallowed whole by a new kind of desire that floods my body. I want to lose myself in him. I don’t want to be found.
“I do,” I whisper as my skin prickles with the clawing need to get closer to him. My pulse spikes. “I wish we didn’t have to pretend.”
“So do I.”
I stop pretending. I lean in, part my lips, and give in.
He brushes his lips across mine and hums as he kisses me.
It’s a soft, aching kiss. Like the song. Like my need for him.
It’s sad and it’s intoxicating at the same time. It’s the way we kiss when we’re saying goodbye, when we’re borrowing time, when we know we can’t be.
The kiss is born of longing, forged in a wish that can’t come true.
I want it too much. I want to forget all the reasons why he’s a mistake. I want to be his Marilyn right now, and his Angel, and his Sabrina.
“Say my name,” I whisper, breaking the kiss. “I want to hear you say my name.”
“Sabrina,” he says. His voice is rougher than I’ve heard before, and it turns me liquid. I’m silver and gold, and I want him to kiss me forever and ever. This kind of bittersweet kiss, this kind of stolen kiss in a costume shop, hearkens back to our first secret kiss.
But when Rita laughs loudly, the sound of her amusement is a sharp reminder that we’re playing with fire.
We break apart.
Because we have to.
I clear my throat, trying to center myself. I can’t think. I can’t speak. “Maybe I should buy a . . .” I don’t know how to finish the sentence.
“A fox mask?”
“If it meant I could have you, I would.”
But there’s no real way to hide who I am, or what I need.
I need a job, and if I’m in love with the man I’m covering, then my story goes up in smoke, and any possible future with Up Next turns to ash.
21
Flynn
“Now, if we can just have this smart home make me eggs and toast in the morning, I’ll be all set.”
The morning news anchor, Camilla Montes, smiles and laughs in that isn’t-it-amazing way that morning news anchors have.
“We’re working on that, Camilla, and we hope to get there soon,” I tell her, since I’ve finished showing her all the cool features of Haven.
“Thank you so much for joining us today, Flynn, and we are so excited that our homes are now becoming brilliant robots that can deliver whatever we need at the sound of our voices.” She flashes a lipsticked smile, with gleaming white teeth. “Also, I would be remiss if I didn’t point out you remain on our list of the most eligible bachelors in New York City. Any chance that’ll change soon?”
I laugh lightly. Jennica briefed me that Camilla might toss a curveball with a personal question—the morning news show ran a list of eligible bachelors recently, so I’m not surprised.
“Is there somebody on the horizon?” she adds.
As I briefly consider whether I want to admit anything on air, I picture Sabrina, her sparkling hazel eyes; her mischievous smile; her wild, warm heart; and her sense of adventure. How I want her to be the one on the horizon. I do. I just do.
Even if we hadn’t kissed yesterday, I’d want a chance with her with the same fierce desire I had when I first wanted to build this company.
Just as I’ve marched my way to the top of the tech world with focus and rigor, I need to find a way to make that woman mine no matter what. I’m not someone who sits back and takes no for an answer. “There is someone on the horizon,” I say with a smile. “I’ll let you know if anything comes of it.”
She smiles and speaks to the camera. “You heard it here first, folks. There is a lovely lady for Flynn Parker. Now, stay tuned for our next segment on how to make your own organic butter.”
When the camera cuts to a commercial, she thanks me, a technician removes my mic, and I say goodbye. Making my way out of the studio, I meet up with Jennica, who waits in the hallway. She stares at me like a teacher about to reprimand a student. “Who is she? Is it your mystery girl? And how long were you going to keep her from me?”
I smile, a grin that can’t truly be contained. “I was going to tell you.”
“You were? I’m getting ready to beat you over the head with the broom for not serving up the deets.”
I love that Jennica has something of a mom in her, that she looks out for me. She’s taken on this role since we’ve been working together. She’s one of the people I’m lucky to have in my life, and as we stand in the concrete hallway to the TV studio, with crews rushing by, guys with headsets, women with clipboards, I decide it’s time to truly understand if I can take this chance.
“Let me ask you a question. How do you think we’re doing? With the rollout of Haven? And with the competition?” I need to hear it from her. From someone who won’t bullshit me.
“It’s going even better than we imagined. Everything is working great. It’s coming together, and we’re far ahead of ShopForAnything.”
“Are they having us for breakfast?”
“Cornflakes we are not.”
“Is one article in one magazine going to make or break us?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think we’ll live or die by one piece of publicity. But if you’re asking me how you’re going to deal with the fact that you’re falling for the reporter from Up Next, I would tell you that, while the story matters, your happiness matters more.”