“Maybe I’m just delusional. Maybe everything I did to Skyler, to all my friends when I wasn’t okay, maybe it’s my karma now and I’m not done paying for it. You know? Maybe this is just my destiny.”
Bear shakes his head. “It’s not. I promise.”
“I know I messed up. I know I’m not perfect. But I’ve been working so hard on making amends, on straightening myself out.” My bottom lip quivers as I shake my head against more tears building in my eyes. “Don’t I deserve more?” I ask Bear and the universe and God and whoever else. When I lift my eyes to meet Bear’s, it’s like I can see my own pain reflected in his warm brown irises. “Don’t I deserve to be happy?”
He blows out a breath through his nose, nostrils flaring as his eyes search mine. His hand wraps around my back to my hip, squeezing, his thumb smoothing the bit of skin exposed between my jeans and blouse.
“You deserve everything, Erin,” he whispers.
Suddenly, I’m very aware that we’re alone. In his room. On his bed. I’m very aware of how warm his hand is, how good he smells, how sexy he looks even in his workout clothes.
I’m very aware of the way my thighs clench together when he shifts, just marginally, until he’s facing me, his mouth so close to mine I can feel the heat of his breath.
“You asked me last weekend if you were desirable,” he says, and then his Adam’s apple bobs hard in his throat, his eyes flicking back and forth between mine. “And Erin, I didn’t know how to answer you then. I still don’t know how to answer, not with words.”
His hand at the small of my back pulls me closer, and his free one slips up my arm, over my shoulder, along the length of my neck until he’s cradling my head, his fingers wrapping into my hair, thumb brushing my jaw.
“But I can show you,” he says, his voice rasping, another thick swallow lining the length of his throat.
Chills race down my spine, and every cell of my being seems to flutter to life when his lips drop to my mouth.
My lips part with an unspoken plea, and my heart stops beating altogether until the moment Bear slips his hands farther into my hair, pulls me into him, and kisses me.
Then, everything kicks back to life at once.
I gasp into his mouth, which only seems to fuel him more as he breathes me in, his hands gripping tighter, tongue sweeping in over mine. When I taste him, a jolt of electricity zips straight down between my thighs, and I moan, reaching for him with just as much urgency as he’s holding me.
I snake my hands around his neck, pulling him in for more even though there’s not so much as an inch of space between us. Flashes of that first night we were together hit me in little bursts of stars, the memory fuzzy and fleeting, but there all the same.
“Clinton,” I whisper against his lips, and he shudders at the sound of his name.
His expert mouth is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, even though I know I’ve technically had it once before. I was drunk, then, too drunk to remember, too drunk to appreciate his full lips massaging mine, his large hands caressing my hip, his fingers weaving in my hair and pulling me in like allowing even a centimeter of space between us would devastate the moment.
But when a flash of Gavin’s smile hits me like a train out of nowhere, I gasp for a completely different reason, tearing myself away from Bear and scrambling off his bed until my back hits his door.
I pant hard, trying to catch my breath, my palms against the wood and my wide eyes fixed on Bear.
His go just as wide in the next instant.
“Shit, Erin, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… not with you like…” He shakes his head, running a hand over his fade as he stands. “Please, can we just—”
“I have to go.”
I fly out of his room with him still calling my name, but I don’t stop or look back. I just haul ass to my car and slam the door behind me, peeling out of the parking lot like a thief on the run.
Oh, God.
What have we done?
WELL, IT MIGHT HAVE taken me longer than expected, but damn does it feel good to have a big girl job.
My first two weeks with Celestial Weddings have been both crazy and amazing. I walked in the doors right in the middle of wedding season, hence the crazy part, but the work is so fulfilling and everything I’ve ever wanted to do.
Well, since changing my major, anyway.
Hence, the amazing.
I’ve been awake and dressed and out the door every morning by six-thirty, and haven’t come back home until after eight most nights. The “part time” offer quickly turned full time with how busy the agency is. My weekends have been slammed with events, a crash-course introduction to what it’s like to be an event planner for Miami’s rich and famous. I’ve worked with brides who were absolute angels, and also had my fair share of bridezillas. And from what my boss says — I haven’t seen anything yet.