Page 15 of Then There Was You
I didn’t expect to meet someone tonight. I never could have dreamed that my very own romantic was under the same moon, much less in my backyard like kismet itself put him there. Maybe it’s silly, but I’m starting to believe that Keats Matthews was put in my path on purpose. And once I believe in fate, love follows shortly after.
Could I love this man?
I don’t conjure a response, leaving my heart to figure it out when ready.
The car saves me from falling too deep into that notion when it pulls to the curb. Keats takes the bottle from me, and I carry the tray. “Happy holidays,” the driver says as I pop the door open and get out.
“Happy holidays,” I reply as I look up at the building before me.
The street is nice, especially with snow falling. Trees grow in front of some of the buildings, but none in front of his. The red brick shows its age with peeling black paint around the trim, a stoop that doesn’t have more than three steps,and only a matchbox-sized landing, but it’s the way Keats is already backing toward the building with his free hand up in explanation that bothers me. He doesn’t owe me anything. “Prepare yourself,” he says. “I know it doesn’t look like much on the outside, but the inside looks even worse.” He cracks a smile.
“I know I’ll love it.” I grab his hand and lead him up the steps. Just inside the entrance, I catch the names on the mailboxes, landing on his. “Four B?”
“There’s no elevator,” he warns, staring at me like he expects a certain reaction.
Eyeing him, I wink. “No wonder you’re in such great shape.”
I start on the stairs, but I’m caught by the back of my coat. When I turn to look, his hand slides to the nape of my neck. The air grows thick when the tension from earlier returns, stirring an unsatiated hunger in my belly. His heated stare tells me he feels the same as his eyes travel from mine and lower to my mouth. We were playful, even eager to arrive, but now that we’re here, my heart feels exposed despite the layers covering my body. I want him. I want him to be my first, but I also care about him. Maybe I’m a fool for falling so fast and easily for someone I just met, but I’ll be the fool for him without hesitation.
There’s no reason to ruin this. I don’t want careful or gentle. I want what feels right, not him worrying about whether he’s hurting me. I’ve been holding this secret, and tonight, I want it behind me. We both know what’s happening is special. This time is for us. We will either lasso the stars or scorch the earth.
Standing two steps higher, I find our eyes are at the same height, our lips even with each other. My gaze travels from the soulful intensity of his browns to the lips he licks, drawing me to him. “We’ve lived in the same city for all these years.” Closing my eyes, I press my mouth to his and whisper, “And I finally found you.”
CHAPTER 7
SOSIE
Aheavy-handed confession like that doesn’t stall the momentum building between us. It’s only a matter of my back hitting his door under the pressure of our passion that has us taking a breath from kissing.
“You okay?” Keats asks, swiping a hand behind me to cushion me from the hardwood. He leans his head against mine as he catches his breath. But then he trails kisses down my neck, pressing his erection against me as his knee anchors itself between my legs.
Tilting my head to the side, I reply, “More than okay.” I’m breathless, trying so hard to keep from panting like a cat in heat in his hallway. I reach for the zipper of the coat, needing cool air to penetrate before I burn up. “I’m too hot.”
“So hot, Spark.”
I paw at him. “No, no,” I say under giggles that escape. “I need this coat off before I have a stroke.” Juggling the bottle in one hand, he grabs my zipper and starts pulling it down. “We should get you out of it, then.”
I burst out laughing, my head hitting the wood again, but this time, I don’t care. This man is stripping me, so who am I to stand in his way? “We should, but inside.”
He suddenly stops and looks up as if it just dawned on him. “Right.” He glances down to the other end. “Yeah.” Pulling a key dangling on a long string from his pocket, he unlocks the door so fast that I tumble backward inside. Balancing the tray on my palm, I reach out to be saved with the other. Keats catches me by the front of my coat before I land on my ass.
“Oh thank God. Nice save.” I’d heap more praise, but I’d rather get back to the kissing.
He flicks the light on as I steady myself, still holding the tray with a death grip, and look around the room. The entire studio apartment is smaller than my bedroom. I slowly turn to take in everything from his personal items to the colors he’s chosen for his furniture and decor. Do guys care about that stuff? I find it endearing how nothing matches, but it somehow feels like him—warm and inviting.
I would choose this place over the pink palace of a cage back at my house any day.
Taking the charcuterie from me, he zips into the shoebox of a kitchen with it. I can finally free myself from the confines of this puffer and the down filling the insides that felt like they were threatening my very existence. Just as I unwind the scarf, Keats swipes both from me and hangs them on a hook by the door next to his.
“I like your place. It’s nice. Warm.”
“We’re lucky the heat is working. That’s not always the case.” He kicks off his shoes and pulls off his socks. “I’m going to change.”
“Changing sounds like we aren’t picking up where we left off.”
My heart skips a beat when he smirks with a look in his eyes that tells me we’re on the same page. He comes to me. Gliding the tip of his finger under my jaw, he steals a kiss. “Are we going to let that champagne go to waste?”
“No way. We dragged it across the city.” I slip away to grab it from the counter and hand it to him. He takes a long pull straight from the bottle. When he hands it to me, I swallow a gulp. His champagne lips cover mine, and we kiss like it’s the first time again.
