Page 61 of Fearlessly Us

As we exit the haunted house set up to look like an old-school toy shop, Drew breathes such a dramatic sigh of relief it sets me off all over again.

“Fuck off,” he mutters. “That was some creepy ass shit. Did you see those puppets? They’ll be haunting my nightmares for the rest of my life.”

“Aw, baby, were you scared?” I say, patting his cheek. “I couldn’t tell by the way you screamed directly in my ear when the puppet master jumped out. I didn’t know your voice could reach that octave. You know it was pretend right? I would think a big strong football player such as yourself would know he wasn’t really trying to steal your body parts to make himself a marionette.”

I expect Drew to say something snarky, but instead a bolt of heat flashes in his eyes and he spins me into him so his chest is pressed to my back. I stiffen, thinking he’s going to wrap his arms around my waist, but he doesn’t. Instead, he circles my shoulders from behind, dropping his mouth to my ear. “Say it again,” he commands, voice low and husky and pure sex, and instinctively, my body relaxes back into him even as every one of my nerve endings sparks with electricity.

“Say what?”

“Baby,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the spot behind my ear and letting out an approving noise when I gasp. “It does crazy things to me when you call me that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I drop my head back onto his shoulder with a sigh when he flicks his tongue into that same spot. Did I know that ears were some kind of erogenous zone? I did not, but I sure do now.

Unwinding his arms from my shoulders, Drew slides his hands down my arms and back up again. I suck in a breath when his fingers lightly graze the sides of my breasts, and his low chuckle sends a streak of lust through me. We’re in the most public place we could possibly be, standing right in the middle of one of the most crowded areas of the park with people streaming by us, and Drew is one of the most recognizable people in the city. I’m sure at some point later when my brain isn’t liquified at the feel of his hands on me, I’ll remember why this is a terrible idea, but right now, nothing about this seems even the least bit bad.

“I like how you melt for me when my hands are on you,” Drew says into my ear, warm breath skating over my heated skin. “Makes me think of all the different ways I want to touch you.” He skates his fingers over my collarbone, bending his head to trail his lips up my neck. And when he whispers, “And all the places I want to touch you,” I’m in danger of doing exactly what he said and melting directly into the pavement, except this time it doesn’t have anything to do with embarrassment.

I’m about to suggest we go straight home without passing go or collecting even one single dollar when Drew suddenly spins me around, dropping a kiss on my nose with a cheeky grin, the look on his face so giddy and carefree it kind of takes my breath away. I wonder how many times he’s smiled like that. Whether maybe he only smiles like that for me. With me.

“Food,” he declares.

“What?” My voice is a little breathless as my brain struggles to keep up through the lust-haze, and the way his grin turns to a smirk makes me think he knows the exact direction of my thoughts.

“I promised to feed you, and all that screaming really works up an appetite.”

I snort out a laugh. “Then you must be starving, Pretty Boy, because that was…a whole lot of screaming.”

His smirk turns wicked. “So we better eat a lot because I’m hoping there will be more screaming later. A lot more. And I’m hoping most of it will be yours.”

My brain goes instantly blank, those lusty thoughts swarming right back into my head.

Drew’s laughter lights up the darkness, and when he leans in and kisses me, hard and fast, and tosses a casual arm over my shoulders, I realize I am completely, wholly in love with this night.

And teetering right on the edge of in love with the man who made this night happen.

“Fuck, Catie,” Drew mutters, his hands plunging into my hair and his lips swooping back down, his tongue tangling with mine. My front door is hard against my back, and every nerve ending in my body is on fire as Drew kisses me with a kind of focused intensity that has my head spinning. “I love the way you taste. Wanna taste you every fucking where.”

I have an idea of what, exactly, everywhere means, and it should scare the shit out of me, but I don’t have time to be scared because Drew slides one muscled thigh between my legs and presses up just enough that a bolt of electricity shoots up my spine, and then I’m not thinking of anything at all except him.

Him and the way he kisses and the sounds he makes, like we’re naked and horizontal instead of fully clothed and standing against my front door, making out like we’re teenagers on borrowed time. And if it’s a little unbelievable that this gorgeous football god wants me the way he seems to, I shove that thought away because for the time being, my body is cooperating and nothing is hurting or bleeding and that feels like fate. Like a sign this is exactly what I should be doing right now.

Except my brain chooses this second to snap back to consciousness and the fear that left the chat thirty seconds ago comes roaring back with a vengeance.

The fear that I can’t do this. Won’t be able to do this. That my body will betray me in some weird or painful or embarrassing way I’ll have to explain when I don’t even have the words to be able to do that because no doctor has ever been able to tell me why I am the way I am. And maybe it’s not even worth the trouble because in a few days I’m having surgery to try to understand the why of it all and I won’t be able to do this again for weeks and since I haven’t told Drew about the surgery I’m not sure how I’m going to tell him why I have to go on a sex hiatus and this suddenly seems like an astonishingly terrible idea.

It shouldn’t surprise me when Drew pulls back a little, his thumbs caressing my jaw, eyes roving my face like he can feel the shift in my mood. It’s both thrilling and terrifying to be seen as clearly as he seems to see me. “Where did you go?” he murmurs, lips gliding softly over mine. “I can hear your brain working. Talk to me, Catie. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Talk to me.

God, I’ve never really talked to anyone about anything, but something about Drew Ellicott makes me want to talk to him about everything.

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes for a second to gather my thoughts, and when I open them again, there he is, eyes steady and patient, big hands gentle where they cup my face, watching me like I’m the only woman in the world.

Safe, I think. This is what it feels like to be safe.

“I’m…scared.” The word feels strange coming out of my mouth. Foreign, almost, like it comes from a language I’m just learning to speak. The admission is a little jarring, but there’s also an odd sort of elation in sending that thought into the universe. Like it holds just a little less power now that I’ve spoken it out loud. Given it to someone who will hold it gently. Treat it with care.

Drew gives me a soft smile, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pulling me into him. He winds one arm around my waist and tangles the other in my hair, my body pressed to his in the best hug of my life. And when he drops a kiss to the top of my head, lips lingering there as the heat between us cools slightly into something steady and true, my eyes blur with tears as I sink into a kind of comfort that feels brand new. The kind I’ve given but never thought to ask for.