What have I done to deserve this? It must have been really fucking bad because I can’t imagine a worse fate than being stuck here, on this sofa, when all I want to do is get up and dance. And all the while knowing that might never happen again.
CHAPTER6
Apollo
What the fuck was I thinking? Flying back from Ireland, barging into her space, and laying one on her like she belongs to me.
I spin back toward the door to my apartment, striding at it, hands tangled in my hair. Turn, walk, pivot. I guess pacing back and forth is my thing now.
Like she belongs to me.
But that’s just it, isn’t it? Shetastedlike she was already mine. The way she melted into my touch, the way her face sat perfectly against mine... We didn’t bump noses, there was no awkwardness, our teeth didn’t clatter together. It was consuming, it was emotional, it was life changing.
It. Was. Everything.
Tipping my head back, my eyes flicker closed as I relive the best moment of my life to date. I could get drafted by an NHL team and win the Stanley Cup, and I doubt I’d ever feel like this again. I drop my head against the door with another thud.
A really huge part of me wants to go back over there, to kick what’s-his-face out onto the street, and kiss her again.
Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe it was an in-the-moment chemistry that fizzled out as soon as I pulled my lips from hers.
My groan echoes around my apartment. My lips still sizzle from the contact.
It wasn’t fucking fake.
It was the kiss to end all kisses.
My last first kiss.
That kiss rattled me all the way to the deepest, darkest levels of my heart. I have no idea why I walked away, why I didn’t keep kissing her...
Blowing out a whoosh of air, I bang my head harder against the wood. Perhaps it’ll knock some sense into me. Or perhaps my head will thump a hole into the door that I can fall through because even though I’m only around fifty feet from where she is, it’s fifty feet too fucking far.
Now that she has me in her orbit, I need to go to her, to be with her. I need to wrap my arms around her and hold her until she’s strong enough to stand on her own two feet again. Christ, how dramatic?
Who the fuck even am I?
I bang my head again. This is Nora Roberts shit. Romance and butterflies flitting around in my chest. Can’t get the girl out of my mind. This isn’t me. I’m not that guy.
Except after that kiss, I want to be that guy. Fuck. I’ll be anyone she needs me to be.
I hate the desperation coursing through my system. I’ve had my first taste of her and all I can think of is how stupid I am to have waited this long, to have given guys likeSimonthe chance to win her heart. FuckingSimon? Fuck that dude. Fuck every dude who isn’t me.
That shit stops here. Her heart has been mine for as long as mine has been hers. It has to have been. We just didn’t realize it.
I never in a million years thought I’d be a walking cliché, but when the truck hit my car and flipped us upside down, I saw my life flashing before my eyes. I saw Edith. Really saw her, like for the first time with wide open eyes.
And now I can’t unsee it. I can’t unsee her, or us, and even if I could take back that kiss, I wouldn’t.
I’m in. With two fucking feet, I’m in this thing. And I sure as shit hope she’s right there with me.
A door opens and closes in the hall. My desperate ass launches at my own door, pressing my ear against it before squeezing my eye to the peephole. Simon stands outside her door, dragging his hands through his hair before turning away.
He pauses, indecision etched across his face, stares at my door, takes two steps toward me, and stops again.
His shoulders sink, he shakes his head, and he makes his way toward the elevator.
Chicken shit.
