Maybe Someday(109)

falling slowly toward my jaw. It’s the absolutely

slowest descent a tear has ever made. I open my

eyes, and Ridge is watching it. He’s following

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the wet trail with his eyes, and I can see his jaw

growing more tense with every second that

passes. I want to reach up and wipe it away, but

the last thing I want to do is hide it from him. My

tears say a whole lot more about how I’m feeling

right now than I’m willing to say in a text.

Maybe I need him to know that this is hurting

me.

Maybe I want it to hurt him, too.

When the tear finally curves and disappears

under my jaw, he brings his eyes back to mine.

I’m surprised by what I see in them.

His own tears.

Knowing that he’s hurting because I’m hurting

shouldn’t make me want to kiss him, but it abso-

lutely does. He’s here because he cares about me.

He’s here because he misses me. He’s here be-

cause he needs to feel what we felt in our first

kiss again, just as I do. I’ve wanted that feeling

back since the second his mouth left mine and he

walked away.

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I remove my hands from his shoulders and

grab the back of his head, then lean into him,

bringing my mouth so close to his that our lips

brush.

He grins. “Good call,” he whispers.

He closes the space between our mouths, and

everything else falls away. The guilt, the worries,

the concern over what happens after this kiss

ends. It all melts away the second his mouth

claims mine. He gently coaxes my lips apart with

his tongue, and all the chaos running through my

heart and head is eliminated when I feel his

warmth inside my mouth.

Kisses like his should come with a warning la-

bel. They can’t be good for the heart. He runs a

hand around to my upper thigh, then slips it be-

neath the hem of my T-shirt. His hand glides

across my back, and he grips me tightly, then lifts

his hips at the same time as he pulls me harder

against him.

Oh.

My.

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Goodness.

I become weaker and weaker with every

rhythmic movement he creates with our bodies. I

find whatever parts of him I can hold on to, be-

cause I feel as if I’m falling. I grab his shirt and

his hair while I moan softly into his mouth. When

he feels the sound escape my throat, he quickly

pulls away from my mouth and squeezes his eyes

shut, breathing heavily. When he opens his eyes

again, he’s staring at my throat.

He pulls his hand from beneath my shirt, then

slowly brings it up to my neck.

Oh, my dear, sweet God.

He wraps his fingers around my neck, gently

pressing his palm into the base of my throat

while he stares at my mouth. The thought of him

wanting to feel what he’s doing to me makes my

head swarm and the entire room spin. I’m some-

how able to glance into his eyes long enough to

see them transform from a calm desire to an al-

most carnal need.

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With his other hand still curved around the

back of my head, he pulls me to him with more

urgency, covering my mouth with his. The

second his tongue finds mine again, I give him

more moans than he can possibly keep up with.

This is exactly what I’ve wanted from him.

I’ve wanted him to show up and tell me how

much he’s missed me. I’ve needed to know that

he cares about me, that he wants me. I’ve needed

to feel his mouth on mine again so I could know

that the way his first kiss made me feel wasn’t

just in my head this whole time.

Now that I have it, I’m not sure I’m strong

enough for it. I know that the second this ends

and he walks out the front door, my heart will die

all over again. The more I open up to him, the

more I need him. The more I admit to myself that

I need him, the more it hurts to know that I still

don’t exactly have him.

I’m still not convinced that he’s here for the

right reasons. Even if he is here for the right reasons, it’s still wrong timing. Not to mention all the

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questions still running through my head. I try to

push them away, and for brief moments, it works.

When his hands graze my cheek or his lips close

over mine, I forget all about those questions that I

can’t seem to run away from. But then he’ll

pause to catch his breath, and he’ll look me in the

eye, and all those questions just cram right back

into the front of my head, until they’re so heavy

that they’re forcing more tears to want to escape.

I clench his arms when the uncertainty begins

to take over. I shake my head and try to push

against him. He pulls away from my mouth and