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I’m too entranced by his touch, his scent, his proximity to understand the consequences of what he’s saying.
“So what happens? I mean…what will they say?”
I can’t, for the life of me, draw my attention away from his mouth as he speaks.
“They’ll speculate about what we are and they’ll embellish it however much they want to better garner clicks and magazine sales. They’ll say I dragged an innocent blonde girl to a dark corner of the club and had my wicked way with her. Starting with a kiss.”
My eyebrows draw together. “But you haven’t kissed me yet.”
A smile spreads slowly, deviously across his lips as his attention shifts to my mouth. Slowly, excruciatingly, he leans down so his lips almost touch mine. My hand slides up to cradle the side of his neck, and I feel his rigid muscles tense as a soft moan escapes me.
“It doesn’t matter,” he whispers before pulling back.
I sway toward him like I’m being pulled by a magnetic force. How can he stand the hunger building between us? How can he stave it off when I’m so close to begging him here in front of everyone, all his warnings and consequences be damned?
“They’ll say I couldn’t keep my hands off you,” he says, dragging his hand up higher, just beneath the hem of my shirt. The loose crop top makes it all too easy for him. My stomach quivers as his palm covers it, and I know he feels it. My reaction to his touch is so overt and obvious.
“Haven’t you been listening? Someone could be taking a photo of us right now. School your features better if you don’t want them to see.”
“See what?” I ask, sounding dazed.
“All those feelings, Little Bird.”
My gaze meets his, and it’s a rush to see everything I’m feeling mirrored back to me.
We’re both careening off track, missing steps. There was supposed to be a nice reunion in a cafe. We were going to catch up on life. I was going to ask him what it’s like to be a father, what he loves the most about his son. I don’t know what he’s been doing since we left each other. I don’t know what he wants from me.
“Ben.”
I squeeze my eyes closed as he bends down, enveloping me. My cheek presses against his chest. My fingers dig into his shirt and I hold on like I’m about to tip back off a ledge.
“I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. No. More. Harder. He shouldn’t be apologizing. I want this too. Maybe more than he does. I rise up onto my toes and press a kiss to his cheek.
He inhales sharply and peels back from me, taking my hand and leading me out. I ask where we’re going and barely hear his response over the noise.
“We’re leaving.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Raelynn
Leaving the club isn’t easy. We can’t just march through the crowd and out the front door. Ben coordinates with security before we say our goodbyes to everyone. I barely have a second to hug Leanna before we’re led through the back of the VIP section and down a long hallway that leads to a side door. Even though we’re surrounded on all sides by security, once we’re outside, camera flashes still seep through, blinding me as Ben’s hand grips my waist, keeping me close to him as I lower my head and block my face as much as possible. A bright flash to my left makes me flinch. It’s jarring and disorienting, and my fight-or-flight reflex wants me to run. My heart pounds as I’m directed, redirected, and shuffled along.
Ben lifts me up into a car, the door slams, and silence ensues.
But outside, the world is chaos.
Paparazzi swarm the front of the SUV, snapping photos and trying to get Ben to answer their lightning round of questions.
“Who is she?”
“Ben! Are you dating?”
“What does your ex think about your girlfriend?”
“Ben!”
“What’s her name?”
Security pushes them back, allowing him to get to his driver’s door and fling it open. He slides in and slams it closed, starting the engine in one fell swoop.
I hear him curse under his breath. I know he feels bad about all of this. I want to assure him that everything is okay and I don’t mind, but truthfully, words confound me. I must be in shock. My hands sit perfectly still on my lap as I watch two photographers shove each other while trying to get closer to my window so they can snap more pictures of me.
Of me.
There are video cameras recording too, and I make eye contact with a guy filming. He shouts, “Smile!” and I blink slowly…dazed.
Through it all, Ben is calm and collected. He reaches over and takes my hand, pulling it onto his lap as he starts to drive us away from the club, moving slowly through the horde.
