Page 38 of Dancing in the Dark

“I don’t want this to be a one-and-done deal.” Just kiss her, dickhead! Take what she’s offering before it’s too late. “I’m not trying to irritate you, I swear. I want to kiss you so fucking badly, I’ve got a mini Fletch inside my brain punching me for not jumping already. But I’m scared of kissing you even once, and then never getting to do it again. I’m terrified of kissing you just for fun, like the old horn dog Fletch used to kiss women, but it meaning nothing.”

“Talking about the other women you’ve kissed isn’t helping this conversation along.”

I choke out a nervous laugh. I’m so fucking stupid. I swear to God, I’ve never met a dumber motherfucker in my life. “I’m scared that if I don’t shut up, I’ll ruin this. But if I do shut up and kiss you, you might think, ‘eh, it wasn’t all that’, and then you’ll walk away and leave me in your dust.”

“Not all that?” She wrinkles her nose. “Even after all the practice you’ve had?”

Wheeze. Don’t pass out. Don’t die. “You make me so fucking nervous, it’s embarrassing. Now you wanna talk about my practice?”

“No.” She gently brushes her palms over my chest. The movement is hardly worth noticing. Hardly worth caring about. But she’s right there, so ridiculously close, and her fingers are slowly grabbing onto my shirt. “I want you to kiss me.”

“I want our first kiss to mean something. I want it to be the first step toward something important. Not a quick tryst in the dark, and once it’s done, it’s done.”

“Ya know…” She breathes out a soft snicker. “I had no clue, after all the noise you’ve made this past year, how difficult it would be to convince you to kiss me.” Licking her lips, she drops her gaze to my bobbing throat and the pulse I know hammers against the side of my neck. “I guess you’re not interested.” Releasing my shirt, she takes a step back and sighs. “Oh, well.”

“No, no, no, wait!” I grab her wrist and yank her back in. “Please,” I rasp. “Please don’t leave yet.”

She tilts her head to the side, contemplative in her stare, then her eyes flicker up to mine and dance with appreciation. “I’m ready to see if our first kiss could be the first building block toward something that matters.” She swallows nervously, her cheeks burning a delicious pink. “I’m also ready to run in front of a bus, because the fact you haven’t kissed me yet is making the unkind voices in my head shout things about how I’m an undesirable troll everyone recoils away from.”

“Not a troll.” I surge forward and slam my lips to hers. Too violent, too demanding, too fucking needy, and yet, not needy enough. I take most of her weight and lift until she’s on the very tips of her toes and her arms swing over my shoulders, then I sink into her with the reverence of a man coming upon water after a thousand days in the sun. I crush her dainty, but oh, so fucking strong, body between my hands, drawing them up until I feel her ribs beneath my fingertips. “Fuck, Sera.” I dive in with my tongue, with my soul. I hold her to me and feast on her tantalizing moan of desire and delight. I draw my hands higher, past her collarbones and up to her neck, then I cup her face and turn drunk on the flavor of her tongue touching mine. On the beat of her heart pounding against my chest. On the gasp of oxygen she once held in her lungs, now occupying mine.

I love you, Sera! I love you so fucking much, it hurts.

I break our kiss before she does, slowing things down before she has a chance to, and making damn sure I get to go to bed tonight knowing she didn’t stop this. But I’ll be damned if I can step away, so I lay my forehead on hers and swallow every panting exhale she gives up.

“Please don’t regret that. And if you do…” I squeeze my eyes shut and steal another kiss. “Don’t tell me. I wouldn’t survive it.”

She drags her fingertips through the hair at the back of my head, scratching my scalp with her nails, humming her pleasure and driving home how much she doesn’t regret this.

Yet.

“I’ve wondered what that would be like.” She pushes onto her toes and steals a kiss of her own. A brush of her lips over mine. A tap of her tongue, teasing me toward madness. “I’m embarrassed to admit how long I’ve been curious.”

“Yeah…? And?”

Slowly, she drops back to her heels and brushes trembling palms across my chest. “It was all that.” Suckling on her bottom lip, she peeks up at me from beneath exquisitely long lashes and grins. “Text me the time and place of our date.”

And just like that, she turns to my door, pulling it wide and stepping through. Glancing back, she feathers shaking fingers over her swollen lips and looks me up and down. “I don’t regret it. Goodnight, Charlie.”

15

SERAPHINA

Charlie chose a beautiful Michelin five-star restaurant on the other side of the massive Bay Bridge that cuts straight through the middle of our city. This place is a full fifteen blocks from my apartment, lit up with flickering candles and bursting with the rich scent of expensive food.

The silverware sparkles. Plates glisten. My wine glass glitters, half-filled with tantalizing sauvignon blanc, and all around me, couples luxuriate in a romantic evening of staring into the eyes of someone they love.

Or at least, someone they want to love.

I wear a formfitting black dress I bought several years ago at a boutique store I didn’t even know existed. It sat buried amongst racks of other stuff, almost as though someone else found it but wasn’t quite ready to commit yet, so she hid it where she hoped no one else would see. But there I went, wandering into a store I had no intention of visiting, walking straight to that rack as though this dress had magnets sewn into the hem, and then I bought it on a whim, no care for the price tag, no plans for where I would wear it.

Now here we are, and my stunning black dress gets her debut showing inside a restaurant bursting with romance, wrapped around a woman who wants so badly to feel safe in the love she feels, the V-shaped neckline plunging in such a way that is both revealing and classy in all the right ways, and I… am alone.

Sigh.

I unlock my phone and swipe across to the texts Charlie sent earlier today. He assured me of a seven p.m. reservation, and then he followed up at noon to say he was excited for our first official date. He texted again at five and said he was on his way home to shower and get Mia set up with Cato as her babysitter.

He promised he’d be here at seven.