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She was so fucking smart.
“Carolina…”
“I’ll wait,” she said. “I won’t do anything stupid. I won’t run out and find a boyfriend tomorrow. I’ll wait, and I’ll be patient. But I need you to promise that you’ll at least try.”
I couldn’t give her that.
Not with the shit that was swirling around me.
“Carolina…” I began again, but she held her hand up to stop me.
“Can I have a hug?” she whispered.
Her words stopped me in my tracks.
All the words I kept telling myself, along with my resolve to stay away from her vanished, and I found myself walking toward her with every intention of pulling her into my arms.
The second she was there, I felt like I was home.
“If you really wanted me to stay away, you wouldn’t keep showing up everywhere that I am,” she grumbled out.
She was right.
I couldn’t help myself, though.
I had to know that she was all right.
Brad was out there somewhere, just lying in wait, to fuck up my life.
I wasn’t sure why, and nobody had been able to locate him to find out what his connection was in all of the turmoil.
But I knew that he was there, waiting for me to fuck up.
What I didn’t know was whether he was there waiting for Carolina to fuck up.
Hence the reason I stayed stuck to her like glue.
If I wasn’t working, I hung around her wherever she might be. Hell, even if I was working, I did the same.
“I’m not showing up everywhere,” I disagreed. “Only some places. And it’s a total coincidence.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You’re a liar from hell,” she countered, pressing her face into my chest. “You don’t sit outside someone’s house for hours on end because it’s a coincidence.”
She had a point.
“Would you like to tell me what’s going on?” she pushed.
I pressed my lips tightly shut.
I didn’t want her to know.
Not yet, anyway.
When it was unavoidable, then I would tell her. But not a second before that.
The less she knew, the better.
Hell, even better would be if I stopped talking to her altogether.
But I couldn’t make myself pull away.
She smelled so damn good.
Like candied apples and pumpkin spice.
And then her hands were pushing up underneath my Polo shirt.
Her cold fingers pressed against my skin, and all of a sudden, I didn’t give one single shit anymore that we were in public. That I was trying to stay away from her. That she really should stay away from me.
All I could do was… do.
My mouth slammed down onto hers, and I groaned at the feel of her against my skin.
I growled, pressing myself into her until her back met the smooth wall of the hallway.
There we were, in the middle of a party, in a brightly lit hallway that anyone could venture down, and I had her pressed against the fucking wall.
My hands went to her face as I pulled her in close, pressing every available inch of myself against her as I rolled my hips into her like a needy cat.
She groaned and moved her hands up to cup the back of my head, one of her hands splaying in the back of my hair, her fingers sifting through my curls.
“I love the feel of your hair,” she murmured. “I wish you had your glasses on.”
I didn’t wear my glasses out in public often. Only when I had to, really.
Most of the time, my eyes cooperated and allowed me to skip the whole nerd vibe thing that often accompanied wearing them. However, sometimes when my headaches became too much, and I didn’t sleep well, the glasses were pulled out as to not further irritate my head.
And I’d found myself wearing my glasses almost the entire twelve days at the hotel while we were in quarantine because Carolina had found them sexy.
I almost wished they were on right now.
Almost.
Because if they had been, I couldn’t press my mouth to hers and practically maul her with my exuberance.
Her fingers tightened in my hair, her mouth slanting over mine, and she fully returned the kiss.
“You fucking slay me,” I growled against those lips, my fingers pushing their own way up the back of her shirt to feel her bare skin.
She pulled back and pressed her lips to my throat, gently sucking a small section of skin into her mouth. She gently stroked her tongue over the spot, but she and I both knew that in a few seconds, I’d have a red mark that would be there for at least a week.
She waited for me to tell her to stop, but I wouldn’t.
I liked the way she felt too much.
That had to be why I allowed my hands to get away from me, and instead of just splaying on her skin like I’d intended, my hands went south to the skirt that she was wearing.
Before I knew it, I was pulling it up and baring her bottom.
