My Last Resolution(15)

I blush and almost close the gap between us, just so that I can taste his lips, so I can see if kissing him will feel as good as I think it would, but he pulls away.

“I don’t think so.” He smiles. “You shouldn’t start things that you can’t finish.”

I feel my cheeks heating even more and make a move to stand up, but he pulls me down again.

“It’s A Wonderful Life?” he asks.

“What?”

“It’s a Wonderful Life.” He points at the TV. “Do you want to watch it?”

“Sure...” I say, even though it’s hard to pay attention to the movie when his fingers are lightly caressing my shoulders, when I can feel him staring at me.

After several scenes have played, and I’ve failed to feel his eyes turn away from me, I clear my throat.

“Is there a problem?” I keep my eyes glued to the TV.

“No.”

“Then stop staring at me.”

“I’d rather not.” He gently cups my chin and turns my head to face him.

Looking into my eyes, he brushes his thumb against my bottom lip—instantly making me wet.

“Since I need your permission, am I allowed to kiss you?” he whispers.

“No...”

“Why is that?”

My breath hitches in my throat as he presses his mouth against my neck. “Because...”

“Because what? It’s just a kiss.” He kisses my neck again and looks up at me. “Do I have to give you my whole life story before I get your permission? I can do that if I need to.”

I have no idea what he just said. I can’t focus because he’s currently running his fingers through my hair and staring into my eyes—giving me that same, lusty smile from earlier today.

“Paris?” He leans close so we’re lip to lip. “What do I have to do to be able to kiss you?”

“Nothing...”

Within seconds, his lips are on mine and his tongue is slowly slipping into my mouth. His hands are caressing my back and my body is giving in.

I let out a soft moan as one of his hands gently threads through my hair, as he whispers something against my mouth that I don’t understand.

Shutting my eyes, I murmur as he continues to thoroughly kiss me—directing my tongue with his, not letting me set the pace.

Before I can kiss him back, and suggest that we just continue doing this for the rest of the night, he pulls away.

“Goodnight, Paris.” He kisses my cheek and stands up. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“What?”

“Goodnight,” he repeats. “I’ll see you in the morning.” And with that he walks away, leaving me wetter than I’ve ever been after a kiss, and ultimately frustrated.

Maybe I should’ve suggested sex after all...

I don’t bother going back to my room. I bring my legs up on the couch and stretch across the cushions, watching the final frames of the movie before drifting to sleep.

Chapter 5

“It’s the start of a new day! It’s the start of a new day! It’s the—”

I hit dismiss on my cell phone’s alarm, groaning when I look at the time. Eight o’ clock.

Sitting up, I realize that I’m not in the living room anymore. I’m in Blake’s room, tightly tucked underneath a soft blanket.

There’s a plate of fruit and a Belgian waffle on my nightstand—along with a cup of orange juice, and behind them is a medium sized box.

Intrigued, I pick it up and quickly unwrap it—laughing the second I see what’s inside: A white silk slip and a note:

THESE are pajamas...You’re too beautiful to sleep in anything else...

I smile and quickly eat the food he’s set out before taking another shower.

Today is the day that I’ll finally be completely alone and able to think about what I’m going to do with my life. I’m definitely going to have to call David to tell him that nothing happened between me and Blake. And when I’m sure that I have the right words to say, I’ll call Adrian.

I put on the same clothes I wore yesterday—silently cursing myself for not making better preparations. I’m about to walk out of the room and look for Blake, but my phone rings. Adrian.

Don’t answer it...Don’t answer it...

It’s the fifth time he’s called me since yesterday, and I want to send it directly to voicemail, but I can’t help but pick up.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Paris...” His voice is low.

“What’s up?”

“What’s up?” He scoffs. “I call you over and over and leave a voicemail and all you have to say is, What’s up?”

“Do I need to repeat it?”

“No, I’ll tell you what the f**k is up. My girlfriend of six years randomly decided to ditch me on the same night that she knew that I was going to propose.”

“Aren’t proposals supposed to be a surprise? Maybe she was disappointed in your approach.”

“Come home now, Paris. We need to talk.”

“We’re talking right now.”

“Seriously?” He sighs, and then he changes his tone. “Look, I’m so sorry for saying all that stuff to you last month...And I’m sorry for being so selfish about my career, but you’ve got to understand. What’s two more years? I’ll still pay for you to go to journalism school, it’ll just be a little later than we planned. I’ve made sacrifices for you too, you know? I chose the cheapest law school so it wouldn’t be that big of a burden for you and I graduated early, Paris. Early. I could’ve stayed for another year, but I was thinking about you. Wasn’t I?”