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Which is why I notice the second she runs off, a look of uncertainty on her face. Why I pause our set to go check on her, ignoring Nash and Ace’s protests. And why I’m now standing in front of her as she leans against a tall oak tree, leaves raining down around her as the wind rustles the branches.
The glow from the lamplights lining the sidewalk behind me highlight her features. The curve of her jaw. The shape of her lips. Her petite nose.
My approach interrupts her moment of silence.
Shoving my hands in my pockets to hide my nervousness, I say hello, and try to lighten the tension mounting between us with a joke as I move closer.
She doesn’t say a word. Instead, she reaches for me, her hands gliding across my chest, stoking the fire that was already burning inside me. Needing more, wanting to erase every inch of space between us, I grab her hips and pull her body against mine. It takes every ounce of willpower I possess to swallow the moan that crawls up my throat, as I lean in and introduce myself.
“Scarlet.”
Beautiful, mysterious Scarlet. Even her name turns me on. Intrigues me. The curve of her lips tempting me as she says her name.
It’s the only reason I can come up with why I kiss her.
I’m desperate. For her. For more. For one taste.
When I hear Nash start banging on his drums, I know it’s time to start the next set. Slowly releasing her lips, I ask her to wait for me.
“Yes.” Her breathing is ragged—because of me—and I can feel the rapid beat of her heart as I hold her hand in mine, my thumb resting against her wrist.
“Promise?” It’s not until she nods that I release her and slowly back away, my eyes staying glued to hers; afraid to lose the connection I already feel between us.
I’m forced to turn my head when I reach the steps of the stage.
That wasthe last I saw of her that night. When I rushed back to where I’d left her after I sang the last note, ready to devour her lips again, she was gone.
How do I explain to her that I’ve wanted her for years? That the night we first met, I was overcome with desire? A desire that hasn’t faded since. That since that night I’ve watched and waited for the perfect moment to approach.
Maybe I should leave that last part out. It sounds a little stalkerish. Obsessive. Like I’m some creep lurking in the shadows, following her around—which I have not done. I don't want to scare her away.
Scarlet’s still waiting for my answer.
Why did I kiss her?
The words are on the tip of my tongue when her phone vibrates, catching my attention. Looking over to where it’s sitting next to an open notebook, the name flashing across the screen has me clenching my jaw, so I don’t say anything I shouldn’t.
Releasing her when she reaches for her phone, I take two steps away and turn my back, giving her some privacy as she answers her text message. Not before sneaking a peek at what he wrote.
TIMMY: We still on for dinner tonight?
Retrieving my shirt from the floor, I pull it over my head and take a deep, calming breath, letting it out slowly before I turn to face her again. I knew she was dating someone a while ago. I didn’t realize they were still together, not after the rumors I’ve heard about him lately. If I had, I wouldn’t have kissed her.
That’s complete bullshit.
Nothing could have stopped me after I saw her sitting here, looking gorgeous as hell in a soft green sweater and black leggings. The look on her face when she spotted me walking toward her, the way her breath hitched in her chest… not even the reminder that I’m not her boyfriend could have swayed the decision I made the second my eyes landed on her.
“Sorry about that,” she says, setting her phone aside.
She’s apologizing to me. Shouldn’t I be the one apologizing for manhandling her when it’s not my place?
“Ready to get started?” I ask, hopping up on the edge of the stage and taking a seat, making sure to leave plenty of space between us.
“Oh, sure.”
She tries to hide it, but I can hear the devastation in her voice.
Guess what? I feel it too.
