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It’s how she makes me feel, lighter, like she doesn’t see the mistakes I’ve made in the past but only sees the me that exists now.She’s utterly addicting.
It’s been quite a whirlwind week. I went from just fucking around to having a full-on girlfriend.Am I insane?Maybe I am, but I don’t care. Lark Summerlin has become an addiction that I have no intention of quitting anytime soon.
“I think we jumped a few steps ahead in this relationship.” I realize how that might be taken if she takes it wrong.
She asks, “Is that what this is?” When I look down at her by my side, she’s already got her eyes on me. “Are we in a relationship, Harbor?”
I stop because what the fuck? Nothing I’ve done in years has made sense, except one.Lark.Taking both of her hands in mine, I search her eyes, praying to God that she’s as deep into us as I am. “I want it to be.”
There’s no humor or jokes, no lightness that usually comes from being around her. My heart thumps in my chest as I stare at her, silently pleading to end my misery. This woman can’t fix my past, but I’m hoping that my future plays out differently. If anyone has a shot of doing that, it’s her.
Reaching up, she cups my face. “You want to be in a relationship with me?” she asks wistfully.
“I do,” I reply, sounding a fucking lot like I’m ready to commit to more. “I want us to be together and date exclusively.”
A smile wiggles into place where it always should be on her face. “You want me to be your girlfriend?”
I hold her by the waist, the thin material not able to hide the shape of her body. I run my hands up and down her middle and then pull her even closer. “I’d really like that.”
“What’s the criteria?”
“Huh?” I should have known this wouldn’t be easy. This girl has a wildly independent streak. I don’t want to tame it, but I would like to be a part of her journey.
She takes my hand, and we start walking again. “Expectations.”
“Uh . . . huh. Well, we’ll spend some of our free time together . . .” I glance at her. “We can even study together. As the relationship progresses and our feelings evolve, we can review the agreement.”
She stops again, laughter shaking her body. Tapping my chest, she says, “I don’t want agreements. I want investments—my heart for yours.”
I tuck some of her hair behind her ear and grin down at this stunning woman. How did I get so lucky? Guess I’ve been given a second chance. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” I kiss her, good and hard, firm and with passion. “Sealed with a kiss.”
12
Lark
What am I doing?
It’s three in the morning, and I’m currently brushing my teeth next to the sexiest man alive. And yes, he was nominated, voted on, and presented the award by me.
Although he’s been staring at me in the reflection of the mirror as if he’s about to seduce me while brushing his teeth with a spare toothbrush, I have a feeling that he’s just built like that, put on this planet to make women weak in the knees and melt in his arms. I was close when we were downtown, but now in my apartment . . .I’m even closer.
Especially after becoming his girlfriend. I giggle internally. Okay, it sneaks out.
Harbor isn’t like other guys. I mean, he probably wants to get me in bed, but not more than I’m willing to jump right onto that mattress with him.
Sure, he’s drop-dead gorgeous, but he’s also intelligent and thoughtful. We talk all the time, but there’s comfort in the silent moments with him.
Oh Lordy, I’m already in way over my head, and I’ve only known him a week.Everything with us is moving so fast, but it doesn’t bother me. It actually feels right.
Just like that body of his.So right. Myboyfriendis built like a Greek god. And I’m feeling enough confidence in this dress to be his Aphrodite for the night. Yep. I feel great. He could have any woman, but he chose me not just for the night but to be his girlfriend.
I’m someone’sgirlfriend. The shock of that causes my jaw to slack and toothpaste to dribble down my chin. I bounce around, trying to scavenge toilet paper to wipe my face. “Holy wow! That burns like a mother.”
He laughs. “Isn’t it usually motherfucker?”
Tapping the paste away with a square of toilet paper, I reply, “Usually, but it wasn’t my father who left. It was the woman who gave me life.” I clamp my hand over my mouth, realizing a second too late that I’ve said too much.
Harbor’s staring at me again but with concern this time. “Your mom left you?”
