Your One True Love (The Bennett Family 8)

He watched me dance the entire night, and there was no mistaking the heat in his eyes. But he didn’t make a move, not even when he walked me home at four o’clock in the morning. In front of my door, he kissed my cheek. He lingered with his lips on my skin, his fingers splayed on the side of my rib cage, digging slightly into my flesh. I burned with yearning for him the entire night.

I was torn between wishing he made a move, and wishing he wouldn’t. Torn, because I’d wanted Daniel for almost three years, but Daniel... well, he was like any other college-aged man surrounded by single women. He liked his variety, didn’t want to be tied down, and I wasn’t a big believer in changing people. I knew how to be Daniel’s friend, but I didn’t know how to be anything else. And I valued the twins’ friendships, and his family’s. I’d grown close to the Bennetts and wasn’t sure that venturing into the shallow waters of nonfriendship was advisable.

My best intentions were blown to smoke when we returned from yet another party. It was November, and the air was chilly. Daniel gave me his jacket because mine was so flimsy it was like having no jacket at all. We had to cross the entire campus to get to my building, and that meant almost twenty-five minutes of walking.

Despite his jacket, I was shivering.

“You’re still cold,” he remarked.

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; “My feet are freezing.”

I pointed to them. I was wearing flat shoes, but no socks. In November. Daniel stopped in his tracks. The lighting was dim, and at first I couldn’t see exactly what he was doing, but then he was taking off his shoes and socks, handing the latter to me.

“Here. Put these socks on.”

“I—thanks.”

For some reason—possibly the three-year long crush and weeks of hot dreams about him—the gesture touched me deeply. When we reached my door, I wasn’t ready to say good night. My roommate was gone for the weekend, and Daniel was shivering.

“Do you want to come in? I can make you some tea.”

“Sure.” He answered so quickly, it was clear he didn’t want to say good night either. Two cups of tea later, he was still shivering. I regretfully gave him the socks back, scrambling for an excuse to make him stay longer. Resigned that I wouldn’t come up with any smart ideas at four o’clock in the morning, I simply asked, “Do you want to sleep here? The couch is a pullout. Your apartment is a good distance away, and cabs aren’t easy to find at this hour.”

I’d said this all very fast, playing with the empty teacup in my hands. We were sitting side by side on the couch.

“If you want me to stay, I’ll stay.”

“Only if you want to as well.”

I was really winning it, sounding like I was playing a game of chicken. The corner of his mouth quirked up.

“I’m staying.”

“Okay. I’ll find you some sheets.”

When I returned with the sheets, Daniel was pacing around the small living room. He still looked frozen. I had to do something to make him more comfortable. I was the reason the cold had seeped into his bones after all. Monopolized the man’s jacket and socks. I had brought him a blanket, but would that be enough? My imagination immediately supplied a more efficient solution. Skin-on-skin contact would warm him up in no time. I could use that as a pretext to snuggle against him on the couch, under the cover....

I shook my head, feeling silly, but my head pounded quicker just imagining touching his hard body, feeling his taut muscles against me. When I caught him sizing me up, heat crept up my cheeks. I looked away, afraid he could read my mind, but not before noticing his eyes were a little hooded.

“You don’t mind if I sleep commando?” he asked.

The heat in my cheeks intensified. My brain went numb at the thought of a naked Daniel in my living room. “No, whatever makes you comfortable. You might be cold, though.”

I gulped, not daring to look at him. But I could feel him watching me. The air around us seemed to have thickened with tension.

More to diffuse it than anything else, I asked, “Do you want a hot bath? It would warm you right up.”

“That’s right, you have a tub. Still can’t believe it.”

I grinned. “One of the reasons I moved in here. Small place, but it has a bathtub. I love it. Use it at least once a week. Want me to prepare one for you?”

“Only if you join me.”

If I thought there was tension in the air before, I could hardly breathe through it now. He didn’t try to pass it off as a joke, as we’d done so many times before when we were skirting too closely on the flirting line. In fact, he didn’t say anything else, merely closed the distance to me, flattening me against the bathroom door. He looked down at me, brought his hand under my jaw, and traced the contour up my cheek to my ear. His other hand was on my shoulder, fingers on my sweater, thumb on my clavicle.

“Join me.” It was a thinly veiled command, and my lower body reacted so strongly, I clenched my thighs. “You want this. Me. Us. You want this as badly as I do.”