All That Jazz (Butler Cove #1)(76)

A breath expels from him, sharp and hard, icing my wet flesh. And then, his hot mouth, his tongue, and then oh holy mother of all that is …

I wasn’t kidding about how close I am. My spine flexes. I grab his hair. “Ohgodohgodohgod.” My climax explodes through my body. It’s white behind my eyelids. White. I’m hurtling through space, I think. I’ve never …

I can’t think. The wave keeps on coming, he’s slid a finger into me, and I’m crying out. He’s not letting me off easy. He’s going to make me give him everything I have. I think I might be dying. As I slowly ride the wave to shore, I’m limp. Boneless and breathless. And shell-shocked. He slips from my body, peppering light kisses over my belly. Then he’s above me looking down into my eyes. His eyes are dark and raw and probing, seeing into parts of me I really would rather not show. But I’m stripped so emotionally bare that I can’t hide. Instead, I turn my face and curl up into a ball on my side, ripples of my orgasm still shuddering through me in aftershocks.

Joseph surprises me by lying down too, molding to my back and slipping his arm over me. I feel his heart pounding against my spine.

My mind is finally blank. My words are gone.

I think we are both speechless.

Minutes tick by, and our breathing slows.

We can’t sleep, we have to deal with this reporter crisis. Though I’m so languid right now, I’d love nothing more than to fall asleep with the feel of his skin and his breath at my back. It’s dangerous, this feeling.

The danger of it stirs me. As if he can sense my mind and my mouth reengaging, he sighs and pulls back slightly, giving me room to turn. But I don’t yet.

“I—” he starts then clears the huskiness from his tone. “I don’t know what your plans are now that you’ve graduated, but I’ve put in a request to transfer my residency to MUSC.”

“In Charleston?” I ask. It’s two hours away.

I feel him nod. “It’s the best university hospital in the area. I’d try to do Hilton Head or Savannah, to be even closer, but I need a good internist program. It’s the best compromise I can think of.”

“Internist? You no longer want to be a cardiac specialist or a surgeon?”

“I just want to be a doctor. I want a practice. I saw how much Dr. Barrett’s work destroyed his personal life, I don’t want that.”

The mention of Dr. Barrett’s personal life sends a ripple of disgust through me. I shift onto my back, turning to look at Joey. He’s propped on his elbow resting his head on his hand, looking down at me.

“Dr. Barrett destroyed his personal and family life all on his own,” I say. “He couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. He needed to constantly feel adored. That’s what serial womanizers do. That’s a psychological problem, not his job causing it. You’re a better person than he is.”

His lips quirk and his eyes blink lazily down at me.

“Wait.” Something else he said occurs to me. “You said transfer. Where are you going now if you don’t transfer?”

“I got a spot in Seattle.”

“Washington?” I ask, my eyes wide. “That’s clear across the country.”

“Exactly. Hence my request to transfer somewhere closer.”

I swallow. Whether he goes to Seattle or not no longer affects me, I remind myself. “Keri Ann’s starting school soon, finally,” I say. “The time for you needing to be closer to her has probably been and gone. She’d be so mad at you if you changed your focus just to stay here and breathe down her neck.”

His lips drop to my forehead, grazing it gently before he lifts his face back up. “It’s you I want to be closer to.”

My whole body stills, unsure if I’ve heard him correctly. “What?” I practically mouth the word, it’s so quiet. The air in my lungs required to force words out of me seems to have finally been used up. I’ve been running on reserves since my orgasm anyway. I grow lightheaded. It’s a good thing I’m lying down. “Say that again?”

“You. I want to be closer to you. I want to see you. I want us to …” He pauses and swallows. “This is hard to say.”

“Give it a try.”

He exhales a nervous laugh. “I know you think I’ve been a jerk the last few years. I avoid everything to do with you. Being in the same room, the same conversation even. The same damn train of thought.” He winces. “It’s exhausting.”

“Sounds it,” I offer warily.

“It’s not because I don’t like you.”

I already know he’s attracted to me. And after what he said to Pastor McDaniel last night, I know he cares for me. But caring plus attraction do not equal love. Not by a long shot. My father was attracted to my mother briefly, but that didn’t translate to love. My father cared about us too. But if he’d loved us, he would have stayed.

I know the difference because I love Joey. I love him. I’ve loved him for three years. Maybe longer, if the truth be told. Maybe I’ve loved him since I was eleven years old, and he saw me tripped up by Bethany Winters and came to my rescue. Even though he swears he didn’t. That’s the strangest thing about love—there doesn’t seem to ever be a beginning or an end. It just is.

“You were right three years ago,” I say.