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Fuck, she’s stunning.
I only got a good look at the back side of her when I got here, and as fantastic of a backside as it is, it pales in comparison to the front.
There’s black lining her eyes when they meet mine, and it makes the blue in her eyes appear even lighter than usual, like glacier water. The makeup surprises me after seeing her without it every day for the past couple of months, but she looks beautiful. She always does.
Scarlett blinks a few times, long, thick lashes fluttering before a sound of annoyance escapes her. I watch with intrigue as she reaches up and pulls her eyelashes off before doing the same with the other eye and then setting a clump of lashes in the sink.
“My mother made me wear those. They feel like caterpillars on my eyes.”
“Good to know.”
She rolls her eyes before looking away. “You didn’t have to come after me. I just needed a minute.”
“Yeah, Scar, I did.”
She’s staring at her feet when she says, “That’s the first time you’ve called me Scar.”
I lift my brows. “And? Do you approve?”
“Anything is better than that ridiculous nickname of yours.”
With a teasing smile, I shut the bathroom door and lean back against it. I cross my arms. “Okay, we’re completely alone now. Admit you don’t hate the name as much as you let on.”
She turns her head. Our eyes lock. “Why would I do that?”
“It would make me happy.”
“It’s a good thing your happiness isn’t my concern, then.”
I push away from the door and swallow some of the distance between us until we’re standing opposite each other. The bathroom isn’t all that big, and I quickly realize how much closer we are than I anticipated. Still, I don’t back away.
“No? ’Cause for weeks, yours has been at the top of my priority list.”
Her breath skips. The shirt she’s wearing hangs off her right shoulder, leaving her skin bare, exposed to the greed in my eyes. Before I can stop myself, my thumb is swiping across her collarbone, tracing the outline of a crowd of freckles.
“I love how many freckles you have. It’s like you’re covered in stars,” I whisper.
“Your imagination is impressive,” she replies, slightly breathless.
I shake my head and trail my touch up the side of her neck. Her pulse thumps beneath my fingertips. “There’s nothing imaginary about you or the way you make me feel, Scarlett.”
“Adam,” she starts. Her voice trails off when I slip my fingers through her hair and palm the back of her head, tilting it back so our lips are a breath away.
“I’m a patient guy when it comes to things I really want, so I’ll wait for you to admit to yourself that you feel the same way I do, because fuck, Scarlett. There’s no way you don’t.”
Her eyes flare. “It’s not that easy.”
“Not yet. Just give me some time to convince you that it can be.”
If there’s one lesson I’ve learned over the course of my life, it’s that the best things never come easy. You have to work your ass off for them, and Scarlett might just be the best one I’ll ever come to know.
“I’m too old to play games when it comes to the things I want, and I want you and everything that comes with you,” I confess.
She chews on her lip. I’m not surprised to find reluctance heavy in her stare.
“Let me try something,” I plead. I free her lip from between her teeth and swallow a groan at how soft it is. Her nod is barely there, but I catch it.
I bring my mouth to hers in a kiss that threatens to send me to my knees. Her lips part on a gasp, and I fight back a smile, knowing it’s affecting her the same way.
