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“Don’t you get it, Duke? I’m sitting here hoping and wishing for you to say and do all the right things. But you just… don’t. And it makes me feel like a total idiot.” I swallowed the burning lump in my throat and looked at him desperately. “You’re not supposed to be my friend.” He looked like he wanted to argue, but I talked over him. “You're supposed to love me. It’s supposed to be you,” my voice cracked as I said it, and I hated it. I hated how weak I sounded.
But when I looked back up at him, it was like recognition dawned in his eyes.
He placed his large hand around my waist and backed me against the bathroom wall, and I just stared at him. His eyes locked on mine, and his gaze filled with heat, like he would burn up if he didn’t do something.
“You want me?” he choked out.
“That’s what I’ve been trying–”
“Thank God,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
And then his lips were on mine, kissing me fiercely.
I immediately gave in, shuddering against his lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him closer, feeling like I was drowning in him as his hands explored my body with an urgent need.
This. I knew this would be perfect. This was why I couldn’t get him out of my head. I knew I wasn’t crazy at seventeen. We fit together perfectly. With him, I belonged. I took in the scent of him, the feel of his muscular body pressed against mine, the way his rough hands—
No, no, no. Not like this,I internally shouted at myself.He was just making out with Daniella.
My stupid brain finally caught up to my body and I used my forearm to push back on his chest.
We were both breathing heavily, and I think he could tell I was about to yell at him, because his eyes swam with regret. It was clear he thought kissing me would make everything better.
“If you think you can just–”
“I’m in love with you, Claire,” he said, cutting me off.
He ruefully pulled back from me and leaned against the sink again. He brushed a hand through his flowy hair. Then he looked back at me with wide, worried eyes.
“I’m scared shitless over this, but I…” He shook his head and looked at me like he was shocked at himself over what he was going to say. “I want to be the love of your life. Me. I want to love you. No one else. It drives me insane, makes me go absolutelynuclearwhen I see you with someone else. It always has. And I’m so sorry I’ve made us wait and put us through all this shit. I’ve just been…” He swallowed, like it was hard for him to admit. “Scared,” he finished.
My mouth went dry. I stood there flushing over his words, replaying them in my mind. This guy. This NHL player who feared nothing… was scared of telling me how he felt…
And he finally laid his heart down at my feet.
The barrier between us had finally cracked.
I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and pulled him closer to kiss me more. He looked shocked for a split second before reciprocating.
“It’s about time,” I said against his lips, and I could feel his smile as his strong arms snaked around my body.
I ran my hands through his soft hair, and he grunted, deepening the perfect kiss. He grabbed my butt to pull me closer. I felt all the worries, all the madness, all the frustration leaving us.
After pulling back an inch, his eyes searched mine and the corners of his lips quirked up. He had both his hands gripping the wall on either side of me to balance. “Wow.”
I grinned, and his whole face lit up with a smile.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” he confessed.
I bit my lip.
“I have been wanting to do one other thing…” he said, gently fingering the bottom strap of my bikini, but not breaking eye contact with me.
“Yeah?” I asked him coyly.
His eyes flamed over. “Can I?” he asked, licking his bottom lip.
I nodded.
