Page 69 of The Write Stuff

“Yeah.” I understood where he was coming from. “I get it. Just for the record, though, I never would have climbed into a bed with you. I mean, you were way out of my league. You were the most beautiful swan in the world, and I was the ugly duckling.”

“Stop,” he complained. “You were always beautiful, Wylie. I was just too blind to see it because … well, because of a lot of things.”

“Because we were treated kind of like siblings for a few years?” I guessed.

“I don’t like the word ‘siblings’ in this instance,” he countered, making a face. “We were more like cousins … by marriage.”

I pressed my lips together, but there was no stopping the laughter that bubbled up. “You’re funny.”

He turned to look at me. There wasn’t a lot of light in the park, but the streetlight on the corner gave him a romantic look in the slight breeze. “You’re funny, too. You’re also beautiful, smart, and insanely talented.”

My heart threatened to hammer right out of my chest. “I’m not —”

“Stop.” He pressed his finger to my lips. “I know you can’t help yourself, but you are beautiful, Wylie. You’re all the things I just said and more. One of these days, you’re going to realize I’m telling the truth. Until then, I would appreciate it if you didn’t argue with me.”

I considered it, what he was actually saying, and blew out a sigh as I nudged his finger away. “Being Aggie Quincy’s daughter wasn’t easy. She was considered the hottest science fiction author in the world. I heard it everywhere I went. Most of the time, the thing I heard after that was ‘do you look like your father’.”

He scowled. “You look exactly like your mother. Who said that?”

“I was a gawky teen, Huxley,” I insisted. “Don’t bother denying it. I’m not an idiot.”

“We’re all gawky at some point in our lives. Mine just hit when I was 13. Yours came later. You’re not gawky now.”

“You haven’t seen me try to rollerblade.”

He chuckled, then shook his head. “We’ll work on it.” He gripped my hand tightly. “I don’t want to say goodnight, but I should probably get you home before it gets too late.”

“Yeah.” I looked in the direction of my apartment building. It was only two blocks away. “You probably should.”

“Okay.” He made a theatrical groaning sound as he stood.

I smiled at him, and every emotion I’d ever felt threatened to explode out of me. In that moment, I recognized what I wanted. I knew what I’d always wanted. “I’m ready.”

He took a moment to absorb the words and then gave me a quizzical look. “You’re ready for what?”

“All of it. The sex,” I added, internally cringing. I had not just referred to it as “the sex,” had I? Of course I had. I barreled forward anyway. “I want it all.”

“You do?” He looked around, as if searching for a camera to reveal some elaborate prank on him. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

He moved forward with a purpose, his hands cupping my cheeks. His breath was hot on my face a split-second before his lips touched mine.

Fireworks went off behind my eyes … and points well south of there. I lost my sense of direction and smell. All I was aware of was his mouth on mine.

I have no idea how long we kissed. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours. When he finally pulled back, his hair was a mess from me running my fingers through it, and his eyes were a little wild.

“I want you to be absolutely certain,” he rasped. “You can still change your mind.”

“I don’t want to change my mind.” I’d never meant anything more.

“Say you want ‘the sex’ again,” he teased, affection brimming in his eyes.

I made a face. “I want ‘the sex,’ but I’m not saying that again.”

“That’s okay. Twice was enough.” He took my hand and pulled me toward my building.

I knew where we were going and what we were careening toward. For once in my life, I was calm.