Page 122 of Just for the Cameras
She makes me feel safe.
Comforted.
Like I can almost—and I mean almost—be myself around her.
Time passes as we make our way back to our neighborhood, not saying anything, just enjoying the silence between us, something else Ican appreciate about her. She doesn’t drown me with conversation anymore, and sitting in silence is just as comfortable as talking.
When I pull up to her apartment, I go to get out, but she stops me, keeping me in place.
“I can get out myself, and don’t argue with me,” she says, feigning a stern expression.
Letting her take the win on this, I settle in my seat as she turns toward me.
“Fine, but I don’t like it.”
She offers me a soft smile before growing serious. “Thank you, Graydon. Thank you for everything tonight. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate how you spoke about the flamingos, the zoo…me. Not sure you will ever know just how grateful I am.”
“No need to tell me; I can see it in your eyes.”
“Can you?”
I wet my lips. “I can.”
Her eyes fall to my mouth for a brief moment before they pick back up to meet my gaze. “Well, if you can see how grateful I am, then I should probably get going.”
I clear my throat, my skin breaking out in a wave of goose bumps asshe leans in closer to me. Her proximity always excites me, but tonight…tonight has been different. Tonight I’ve been yearning, begging, pleading, needing her to be close, and now that we’re not in the public eye, and we’re just alone, me and her, I want her to want this.
To want to feel my touch.
To want to be near me.
Fuck, I just…I want her.
Leaning in more, she cups my cheek, and like every other time I’ve dropped her off at her apartment lately, she very lightly presses her lips to my jaw.
It’s almost unbearable after the night I’ve had with her.
A goddamn tease to what I actually want.
But instead of exiting right away, she stays close, her breath caressing my stubble. On a whisper, she says, “Thank you.”
A shiver runs down my spine from the hitch in her throat while her fingers slide off my cheek and down my chest.
I don’t want her to pull away. I don’t want her to leave this car.
I want…fuck, I want so much goddamn more, and that’s terrifying.
Because I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this desperate for another person before.
I wet my lips again, my gaze set on hers. She’s close, so fucking close, like she’s expecting something more. Expecting me to make a move.
And that’s dangerous, because desperation is crawling up my spine, pushing me to do more.
Ask for more.
When her eyes drop to my mouth, my stomach plummets in a fury of flutters.
She wants this too.
