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Rhys kissed me once more, this time soft and slow, as though to echo his insistence or remind me of just the type of lover he was, before he stood up and started for the kitchen. I struggled to balance on my elbows, drained of energy, just for one more glance at his perfectly toned backside, whimpering a little when he pulled on his boxers.
He’d gone into the kitchen, reminding me of how famished we were. Listening to Rhys hum and the sound of ceramic and cutlery, I pulled the blanket with me to the couch.
I tightened it around my shoulders before Rhys returned to the living room, his forearms taut beneath the weight of the tray he carried with him.
“Dinner,” he chimed. Strands of his brown hair dangled perfectly around his face before he combed them back with his fingers, effortlessly gliding his hair back to the way it appeared when I arrived. Before the champagne, the photograph, and the most incredible four hours of my life.
He leaned over the fire, lighting it once more before coming back to me. I watched Rhys prepare one plate for us, piled high with everything he’d planned on us eating earlier at his table.
Wondering if he felt at all nervous while making it, curious if he’d hoped for our night to go as it had, I couldn’t help but grin. When he nestled at my side, his weight pulled me to him.
My heart pounded with excitement as Rhys’s fingers dragged away one side of the blanket, making room for himself next to me.
“Do you think this is near the end of your mother’s book?” He questioned with a chuckle, kissing the top of my head. “And the confident woman now lives happily ever after?”
“I haven’t read it since you came over. Even with everything going on, I guess I haven’t needed to mock it to feel better about myself.”
“Everything going on? What’s,” he lifted a forkful of berries to my mouth, “happening that’s got you feeling differently?”
Rhys stared at me expectantly, his brown eyes hopeful. My gaze couldn’t capture enough of him in that moment, trailing the line of his jaw, remembering how it felt against my neck, his soft lips and the dangerous way they ignited my skin with one kiss. I reached for a glass of water on the tray, swallowing my worries before curling against Rhys. His body mirrored mine, containing us in the warm blanket as I rested my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes.
Everything settled; my heart, my thoughts, our bodies. Rhys’s fingertips traced circles on my shoulder as I resisted my body’s demand to fall asleep in the security of him anchoring me to his side.
Spreading my palm against his chest, I could feel Rhys’s heart and I wondered why it didn’t feel new. The butterflies were there, yet they fluttered comfortably, like they’d known that moment before.
“You set something ablaze,” he murmured into my ear, “and I haven’t felt the things I feel toward you in what seems like forever.”
* * *
The hissing pop of embers in his fireplace stirred me from the warm, deep slumber against Rhys’s side. The last thing I remembered was his mouth against my ear, taunting me with the warmth of his breath and the tickle of his lips when he described his feelings. Being able to desire the ability to feel was invigorating, let alone being told I’d woken in him the same thing he’d stirred in me.
Slowly blinking myself back to reality, his warm chest still beneath my palm as though even my subconscious refused to let go, I glanced around the room. The moon was no longer visible through the windows, although steam continued to cling desperately to each pane. I knew how it felt; I wanted this moment to last, too.
Rhys pressed his cheek to my head, whispering something in his sleep. His arms tightened around me, my body giving in while he held me in his sleep.
“I feel things, too,” I told him as I pressed my lips against his chest. Rhys roused against me, his chest swelling with a deep breath.
He hummed happily when his eyes met mine. “Good morning, Mia.”
We didn’t discuss the night before, as the city woke beneath us and I slipped on my clothes. That didn’t bother me, and maybe that was because I didn’t have expectations with Rhys. He was more than Sadie’s future brother-in-law, and more than a friend, but I was comfortable with that being it… At least right now.
“I wish you’d stay for breakfast,” Rhys spoke over his steaming cup of coffee.
“Then you’d be in control,” I teased. “You have a flight to catch… And we have lives.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends, Mia.” Rhys sighed, turning his head to rest on top of mine as we stood next to each other in his kitchen. “Or more, someday.”
His hint of promise tasted sweeter when his lips were against mine moments before I left, beginning the cold and lonely walk toward the park to find a taxi that would take me back to reality.
