Page 68 of The Write Stuff

“Are there onions on those?”

The question threw me. “No. Why?”

“Because sex may be off the table, but I plan to kiss the crap out of you later.” His smile was impish and charming. “I’ve waited as long as I can on that front.”

“Oh.” My heart started pounding again. “Um … no onions.”

“Just for the record, I would have kissed you with or without the onions.” He winked.

I had no idea what to say. Every cogent thought I had vacated my mind. I was in so over my head here that I had no idea which way it was to the surface.

I ATE WAY TOO MUCH FOR DINNER.

“I think my pants are going to burst,” I complained as I tugged at the elastic waistband of my capris. “I can’t remember the last time I ate so much.”

Huxley smiled as he held my hand and we walked down the sidewalk toward my apartment. We’d stopped at various little squares to read the plaques along the way. He swore he was interested in history and nothing more, but I knew the truth. He just wanted to prolong his time with me.

“We should sit.” He pointed toward a bench in one of the parks. All around us, we could hear people having a great time on various sidewalks as they bounced between bars. We were in our own little world, though, the only two people in the park.

I did as he instructed. It was getting late — we’d spent hours together, and it had felt like minutes — but I wasn’t ready to call it a night yet.

“Tell me about Hayley and Lucy,” he prodded. “How are things going with them?”

“Surprisingly well.” I got comfortable on the bench. I was close enough to touch him, but I didn’t lean in to get too close. There was a sweat factor to consider — it was a humid night — but I was also afraid that if I climbed onto his lap, I would never find the strength to climb off. He made me want to throw off all of my inhibitions, which was something nobody had ever done for me.

“I can’t say I’m not surprised that they hooked up,” Huxley admitted. “Hayley strikes me as the staid sort and your sister …” He trailed off.

“You haven’t even seen Lucy since she moved here,” I reminded him.

“No, but I can picture her.” He frowned. “My shin aches whenever I think about her, which isn’t often, thankfully.”

I smirked. “You’re still not over the Kit Kat bar?”

“That was my Kit Kat bar. She lied and said it was hers, but it was always mine.”

“There, there.” I patted his thigh. “The trauma is real, huh?”

“You have no idea.” He was adamant as he linked his fingers with mine. “I’ve had nightmares about your sister.”

“Did you ever dream about me?” I had no idea the question was going to pop out until it was too late to haul it back into my mouth.

“Actually, yes.” His lips curved into a small smile. “Right after the fight between our mothers, I had a dream that you found me at the hotel we were staying at. We went from Austin to Las Vegas and stayed at the Bellagio. My mother told me I could order anything I wanted from room service, and I thought that was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I still didn’t realize the ramifications of what had happened.”

“I was confused when it first happened, too,” I admitted. “I assumed that they would make up after a few weeks. I didn’t realize …” I trailed off and thought of Mick. We still hadn’t talked about the fallout from that situation, and I didn’t want to do it tonight.

“I know,” he said, letting me off the hook. “I thought they would make up, too. I really did. When we were in Vegas, though, it was like being in a different world. We stayed there for two weeks.”

“We went to Los Angeles,” I said. “We stayed in a big hotel, too. Mom was never around during that time, and I still don’t know exactly what she was doing. Lucy still had her nanny, so I was left to walk around on my own. There was nobody to talk to, though.”

He nodded in understanding. “On about the third night, I thought I was waking from a dream and that you were in my bedroom. You said you were afraid and asked if you could sleep with me. I said yes.”

I made a face. “I never would have done that. Are you kidding me? I would have freaked out that you would find me too bony or gross.”

“We were in college by then,” he reminded me. “You’d started to fill out.”

“You didn’t notice that.”

“Oh, I noticed.” His smile was rueful. “Hence the dream. It freaked me out, but I didn’t allow myself to think on it too long because … well, just because.” He looked momentarily tortured. “We were adults then, Wylie, but I still felt like a kid. That stretch between high school and actual adulthood is confusing.”