A glow from outside stops me in the middle of Justin’s family room.
“Thatsh pretty.” I watch headlights dance through the window as cars pass by Justin’s house. I reach my hand out, trying to grab the rays, but when I open my palm, there’s nothing there. I squint at the window, and now everything looks like a laser show with colors and light rays shooting everywhere. Nope,spinningeverywhere.
The room is spinning.
I shift my gaze to the kitchen, reminded of why I’m out of bed in the first place.
Maybe there’s medi-sinny in the spinning kitchen. Medi-sinny, that’s still not right.
I stumble forward, using my hands to feel my way around the bar like I’m in one of those fun houses where the floor tilts and you can’t walk.
I fling open the refrigerator, and the blinding light hurts my head so much that I slam it closed again.
“It’s here shumwhere.” I open the dishwasher, then straighten, letting the door drop to the ground. In the back of my foggy brain, I’m aware that medicine would never be stored in the dishwasher, but I’m also so out of my mind confused that I can’t stop myself from doing stupid things like opening the dishwasher to look for a bottle of Tylenol.
After the dishwasher, I start flinging open cupboards.
If I don’t find it soon, I might just lie down on the tile floor and sleep until my body and mind feel a little better.
SUMMER
* * *
I marchup Justin’s front steps, impressed that he found the time to shovel the snow from last night’s storm. For some reason, I can’t picture Justin shoveling snow, as if the act is beneath him and his expensive leather shoes. But I guess you can’t live in Colorado without being willing to dig yourself out occasionally.
Balancing the warm burritos in one hand, I turn the handle. It’s unlocked. He must’ve gotten home just before me. I push his front door open. Everything is dark, but rustling in the kitchen lets me know he’s home.
An idea flitters across my mind, pulling my lips into a smile. It hinges on absolute silence as I remove my coat and shoes and tiptoe to the kitchen. Rounding the corner, my stomach stirs at the sight of him. There’s enough glow seeping through the windows to see Justin standing in his kitchen with his back to me. He’s shirtless with dark joggers slung low on his hips. Lights from outside dance across his back, creating shadows that tease fleeting glimpses of his corded muscles. It’s been so long since we’ve spent time together like this that I’ve forgotten just how good he looks without his shirt on. He looks more muscular than I even remember.
There’s a different feel about tonight—the darkness, the fact that Justin is purposefully greeting me half-naked. My blood is pumping in a way that makes all of our problems momentarily disappear.
I crave the warmth of his skin, and I don’t even think twice about closing my arms around his bare chest, wrapping him into a hug. His body startles and then stills as it relaxes against my touch.
I raise to my tiptoes, whispering in his ear, “Guess who.”
“I’m dreaming. This is a dream.” The deep, sexy texture behind his voice has my body humming with desire.
“Do you want it to be a dream?” I shift my hands, feeling his hard chest beneath my fingers. Justin’s bench-pressing regimen has not taken a backseat to his busy work schedule in any way whatsoever. I skid my lips across his shoulder blade, kissing a trail up to his neck. He smells like his regular body wash but also like something different, a manliness that’s driving me crazy. Just another sign of how starved of affection I’ve been.
“Uh…” His breaths are heavy. “I like this dream.”
That’s all the encouragement I need to draw his mouth to mine, forcing him to spin around and face me.
“Wa—”
Before he can even get the word out, my lips close over his. They say if you want something in life, go after it. Well, I want to remind my boyfriend that I’m better than work. This kiss is romance CPR, and I’m single-handedly bringing our physical relationship back from the dead to the beat of “Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Gees.
At first, Justin stands like a limp statue. I feel like I’m holding him up. His lips are stiff, and there’s a tenseness to his body that should make me pause, but instead, it does the opposite. I’m a woman on a mission, and the game: weaken Justin’s defenses until he is helpless against my touch. He’s overworked, stressed out, and a man. It shouldn’t take too long to break him down.
I press my body into his—a total vixen move. My determination knocks him back against the counter, awakening his senses and driving his hands to my waist. I drift my fingers along his bare back and move my lips over his, forcing pliability into the kiss. He tries to mumble something, but I smother his words by deepening the passion. It only takes a second before his arms fully wrap around my body, and he gives in to my efforts.
His hand travels into my hair as the kiss shifts from a one-sided game to a two-person showdown. We essentially went from solitaire to chess, and I couldn’t be more invested in the process if I tried.
The kiss is full-body contact and excitement and newness—a nice change from the last few kisses we’ve shared. As Aunt Carma would say, it’s Bob-Irvine good. It’s so next-level that I get lost in it, not even trying to analyzewhyit’s so amazing. I’m just enjoying the ride as my body fills with delicious butterflies that build in intensity with each passing second.
I’ve died and gone to heaven.
His lips part from mine, barely enough to speak. “Is thish real?”
