Page 55 of The Beat Match

She huffed out a watery laugh. She loved that visual, those two as teens, huddling over a lock, thinking themselves master criminals. She loved Wes, and if he was truly interested in her, he wouldn’t care that she was blotchy and frizzy and a general mess. Steeling her frazzled self, she forced her feet toward the door and turned the lock.

* * *

Weston pushed the door open slowly, revealing the woman he’d once only seen as a child, his best friend’s little sister, annoying and cute. Then just annoying. Then strong and resilient and the most astounding person he’d ever known, even if she never finished her Sudoku puzzles and refused to tidy her apartment. Now she was this. Mine.

He didn’t reach for her like his body demanded. This was all too new and difficult for them both. He still had to confess about Leo, explain about his relationship issues.

He flexed his fingers, forced them loose at his sides. He hated that he wasn’t kissing her, that she’d ever kissed any man but him. This visceral possessiveness felt unfamiliar, but maybe it wasn’t. He’d always felt protective of her. He’d just never let himself look hard enough to analyze why and see the feminine allure glowing under her skin, through those soft curves, her rainforest eyes, the plump bow of her bottom lip.

She really did have his towels stuck under her arms. Her eyes were glassy, as though she’d been crying, or she was about to cry. The skin around her neck, up to her ears, looked red and irritated. All he could think was: love. I love this woman.

A solid punch straight to his heart.

“Nothing will happen between us until you’re ready,” he said. Until they were both ready. “I just want to talk tonight, or just sleep. I need to give you a full apology and better explanation of…things, but we can go to sleep and deal with this in the morning, when we’re fresh.”

She squeezed her arms tighter to her sides, those ridiculous towels poking out. “Like sleep, as in together?”

“If it’s up to me, yes. I…” Why the hell was his throat closing up?

Seeing Annie out with Duncan had twisted something inside of him. Rosanna’s advice to be truthful and apologetic had given him the push he’d needed to reach out. But it had been this week’s utter loneliness that had knocked his head straight. He hadn’t known heartbreak until he’d hurt Annie with his petty lies and had a taste of how painful it was not talking to her.

“I’ve been messed up since that scrapbooking night,” he said, forcing the words out. “I’m tired of denying how I feel about you, to myself and to you. So, yes—I want you next to me tonight. But if you’re more comfortable in the guestroom, that’s fine. As long as you promise not to leave without talking to me in the morning.”

“I’m scared,” she whispered. “I just…feel so much, and I’m suddenly terrified this will backfire. I can’t lose you, Wes.”

Exactly why he’d been a spineless jellyfish. He understood her better than she realized. “We’re both scared because we know how huge this is.”

Her eyes dropped to his crotch. “I mean, it looks big, but not that big.”

He laughed. Tossed his head back and let go until his cheeks ached from smiling. Yeah, he understood her. Losing Annie wasn’t an option, which meant he had to prove his worth. Offer her complete honesty and, if she actually forgave him, try not to let his past ruin his future. Make himself into the prince she deserved.

He grabbed the towels under her arms and tugged them free.

She relaxed and mumbled, “So gross.”

He laughed again. “The grossest. Now get over here.”

When she didn’t move, he closed the distance between them and pulled her against his chest. He wrapped one arm around her back, dragged his other hand through her hair until she melted into him. His body stirred. There was no controlling this pulsing need. He still wouldn’t touch her until they’d talked. “My bed or the guestroom?”

She purred lightly, brushed her nose and lips against his neck. “Your bed, as long as we only sleep. I need to take this slower than I realized, and I need to shower first.”

He wasn’t sure how he’d manage knowing she was naked in his shower, water sluicing over her breasts, between her legs. He was barely containing himself now, which Annie no doubt felt. Her breath caught. She shifted her hips. “Jesus. Where do you buy underwear for that thing?”

Chuckling, he stepped back and jerked his chin toward his bedroom. “Get in there, get showered, and get into bed. I’ll make sure this thing keeps to his side of the bed.”

Annie glanced at his crotch again, his erection straining the fine wool of his Armani suit. He hadn’t bothered changing since dinner. He hadn’t done much besides stare at his front door, waiting for Annie. Now she was here, staring at his clothed body like the sight of him had hypnotized her.

She blinked, swayed slightly. “I, um…”

He smirked. “You were going to shower.”

She looked up, a slow grin curving her lips. “Right. Shower. Then we have a slumber party on the respective sides of your emperor-sized bed.” With a sultry look, she turned, hips swaying as she sashayed toward his room. Rosanna was right to question his business savvy and mental prowess. He should never have suggested they sleep in the same bed, but he wanted her as close as possible. Once they talked, he could lose her for good.

A cold shower of his own later, he walked down from his upper level, turning off lights as he neared his bedroom. Hopefully Annie had had enough time to calibrate, relax and settle. Accept that she wasn’t running from him, and he wasn’t running from her. They would finally face the intensity between them.

He knocked on the door. A loud snore erupted, fake and obnoxious and all Annie. He pressed the door open and leaned on the frame. “Careful, or you’ll wake Felix.”

Annie was in one of his V-neck T-shirts, the front dipping low, all of it too large on her. Her blond hair looked darker, wet and loose around her shoulders. Her skin was clean and fresh. A vision on his crisp, white sheets.