Alcohol You Later (56)

I won’t say it’s okay…because it’s not. But here and now, we’re starting anew. Erasing the mistakes of our past to make room for our future.

“I love you.” He punctuates that declaration with the softest press of his lips to mine. “With every beat of my heart.”

Emotion spills down my cheeks as I mouth the words, “I love you too.” It’s barely a whisper, but I know that he heard when he angles my face and lightly licks the seam of my mouth.

Our tongues dance to a sensual rhythm—soft and reverent and unhurried. We are nowhere but this moment, existing as one—an extension of each other. No longer two halves floundering to find a place in this world. We’ve built a home in each other.

There’s something to be said for a kiss that’s not made with the intent of going any further—not sexually fueled but an expression of genuine love and affection. A kiss that soothes and heals. A connection that’s felt soul deep.

When we finally break apart, I’m left feeling revered and without a single doubt that this—the two of us together—is the only thing in life that makes sense.

“That was,” I say, scraping my teeth over my lower lip. “Something, Mr. Potter.”

“Ya like that?” His answering laugh is boyish. His smile so pure.

There’s a sense of peace surrounding us both.

Already, I’m breathing easier—like I’ve just tasted clean air for the very first time.

We share a smile. A flirty look.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” I ask when he doesn’t turn away.

“Because no one’s ever been mine before.” He shrugs. “Guess I’m feeling a little like a caveman right now.” Then he turns and heads for the refrigerator, whistling an upbeat tune, like he didn’t just deliver a devastating blow.

My heart clenches over the fact that he doesn’t even realize how sad a reflection that is. It kills me that this beautiful man has truly never had a person to call his own. Not a mother or a father. No grandparents or siblings. He’s been alone, apart from two extended family members and a handful of friends. “I’ve been yours for longer than you realize, Nicholas Potter,” I say, triggered by a sudden need to reassure him.

I’m sitting here reeling with indignation while he’s carrying on as if nothing is untoward. He accepted his shitty lot in life long ago, while I likely never will. I’ll always mourn for the past he should have had—the childhood he was cheated out of. As much as I wish I could, I can’t change any of that. But I’ll do my best to fill his life with light and love. To overshadow the dark times with happy ones. To help him make real connections—and if it kills me, I’m going to start with those kids.

He turns back with the paper-wrapped meat in one hand and a cutting board in the other and sets them on the counter. “But it’s official now…” He quirks a brow. “Right?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

The smile that splits his face is blinding. “You’re gonna make me do this aren’t you?”

I fold my hands in my lap, tilt my head and fan my lashes his way.

Damn right I’m going to make him do it. Asking a girl out is one of those awkward life experiences no man should be exonerated from. Not even sexy as fuck, famous rock stars.

“All right then…” He moves to the sink to wash his hands. “Here goes,” he says flinging the leftover droplets at my face.

I’m still giggling and wiping it off when he cages me in with one hand on either side of my body, his face inches from mine. I study the flecks of gold in his irises as I trace a finger over the scar above his left eye.

“Raven Winters,” he says, waiting until I acknowledge him with a nod before continuing. “Will you please put me out of my misery by granting me the esteemed honor of being my girlfriend?” Completely over the top, in true Nicholas Potter fashion. If it wasn’t for the slight flush in his cheeks, you’d think he was completely unaffected.

I bring a finger to my chin, pretending to mull it over to draw out the agonizing moment, because sweating it out is another life experience no man should do without.

“I’m not moving back in with you,” I warn, afraid he’s under the very wrong assumption that things will just go right back to the way they were. As much as I’d love to share his bed every night, I’ve already seen how much he needs this time to bond with his children. He can’t do that with me around.

He nods.

“And you still have a lot of groveling to do.”

“Oh, I’ll grovel, baby.” He buries his face in the bend of my neck, growling and gently gnawing on the sensitive flesh.

I’m trapped, squirming and laughing and damn near pissing myself because it tickles, and he won’t let up.

“Nicholas,” I scream, flailing my arms and legs. “Fine!” I shout. “Mercy.”

“Not the word I’m after.” He adds his hands into the mix, poking at my ribs.

“Yes!” I’m wheezing, on the verge of throwing up. “Yes,” I huff when he finally backs off. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”





My girlfriend.

Raven Winters is mine. Mine to kiss. Mine to hold. Mine to protect.