Page 76 of Jesse

“Oh.” I laugh, then suck in a deep breath of air. “OK. That sounds like a plan.”

“Wait right there,” he says, holding up a finger. Then he gets out of the car, leans in to the valet to say something as he palms him a tip. Then walks around to my side and opens my door.

When he extends his hand to help me out I take it, feeling slightly shy, then slightly foolish for feeling shy, and step out.

He doesn’t let go of my hand. “What’s going on here?” I ask. Because even though I can sense that something has shifted between us, I’m just not entirely sure what that shift means.

He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he closes the car door, drops both his hands to my waist, and urges me backwards until I bump up against the car door.

Then he kisses me.

It’s expected and unexpected. Yes, I figured he’d do this. No, I didn’t think I’d feel this way when it happened.

I swoon for this man’s kiss.

My head goes drifty and light, my legs go weak and shaky, and my stomach flutters with the wings of a million tiny butterflies.

Everything around us disappears. Nothing else exists when the tip of his tongue sweeps up against mine. He tastes like fizzy orange. Everything about him is cool and refreshing. He is some kind of new promise. Or maybe the disappearing memory of old regrets.

“Do you remember what I want you to do?” he whispers, pulling out of the kiss.

I open my eyes and nod my head.

“Say it back to me.”

I know he’s being bossy, I just don’t care at the moment. “Sleep. For as long as I like. Then text you,” I say.

He grins as his eyebrows lift up. Innuendo, I realize. “Perfect,” he says.

And now he’s backlit by the pink and orange of the rising sun stealthily forcing its way into the city between a maze of tall buildings. A beam hits my face, blinding me for a moment until I turn my head.

He turns my head back, positions himself between me and the sun, and kisses me again. This time I don’t close my eyes. I watch his lips. Notice they are very nice, and soft, and—”Hmmm,” I mumble. Because he put one hand behind my neck to hold me in this kiss a little longer.

He murmurs, “Gonna let me boss you today?”

And I say, “Sure.” Which comes out very breathy, and sexy, and erotic. Kinda like a purr. Which I didn’t mean to do, but ends up being totally appropriate because he chuckles a little and kisses me again.

“Good,” he says. And this time when he backs out of the kiss I know our date is officially over because the valet pulls his little red Ferrari in front of my Huracán.

Still, he holds my hand in his. Takes two steps towards his car—and for a moment I think, Holy shit. He’s gonna take me with him. Would I go? I’m totally going.

But then he lets my fingers slip through his hand and he turns and thanks the valet driver, then disappears inside the car.

I stand there like a love-sick teenager as he pulls forward. Then catch him waving at me in his rear view and wave back.

I don’t know how I get up to my apartment. I have no clue at all. I just know I’m inside, peeling off my clothes, reluctant to change because I smell like the beach.

No, I smell like him. That’s him all over me. The sun, and the wind, and the sand, and the sea. Every bit of it is him.

I sink down into my couch cushions and sigh just as my phone rings in my pocket.

Mila.

I stare at the screen, debating if I should answer it or not, then decide nope. Not gonna have that conversation right now. I just want to rest and… think about him.

I turn it off so there’s no more debate, place it on the coffee table, and then flop over on the couch and close my eyes—my body still rocking with the motion of planes, and boats, and…

When I wake up it’s almost evening.