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“Show me what? That you deleted it from your phone?”
This man.
He’s hurting so much.
“Bradford, think about everything we’ve been through. God, so many years of wanting each other. Think about what I said to you that night in the club. Really think about it. And think about what we just did. About everything I’ve said to you this weekend.” I step closer to him and gently place his phone in his hand. “Do you really think I could send you something so hurtful?”
I put my hand to his cheek, taking in the lines on his face that are new to me. He’s so handsome. So devastatingly good looking but, in this moment, so fierce in his brokenness. “I hate the things we’ve said to each other. I hate that I can feel our connection so strongly, yet we’re letting so much bullshit get in the way of that. I’ve been through too much to let this go without fighting for you. I need you to hear me. I want you. I never stopped wanting you. I’m sorry I hurt you by choosing other men to work my shit out with, but I want to choose you now. And I know you’re engaged to that ice queen, and I know she’s the smart choice for you, and I know it would cause a shitstorm of epic proportions if you ended that engagement, but I want you. And I want you to choose me.”
He takes a long time with that.
So long that I begin to wonder if I’ve failed to reach him.
Then, he exhales, the tension easing from his shoulders.
I slow down.
I call on every ounce of patience I have.
And I wait for him because he waited so long for me.
Finally, he says, “Your timing is fucking woeful.”
I stay slow. Like a hesitant deer. In case I’m misreading him. “I know. But in my defense, I would have timed it sooner if that text hadn’t come between us.”
His chest rises and falls as he works through his breaths. “Jesus, Kristen.”
I smile. I can’t help it. Bradford looks a little bewildered. I’ve never seen him with this expression on his face.
His grumpy look flares. “This isn’t a smiling matter.”
I keep smiling. “I’m aware, but still.”
“Still what?”
“You look so cute when you’re bewildered.”
“Cute?”
Oh, how I live for his grumpiness.
I move into him, my arms going around his waist. “Yes, cute. It makes me want to kiss you.”
One of his arms comes around me while he runs a hand through my hair. The tenderness that’s now in his eyes is everything.Everything.
He bends his face to mine and kisses me. He takes his time, not rushing even a second. Deepening the kiss with every swipe of his tongue over mine.
Bradford’s lips are where I want to live. They’re my safe place. I never want to know a day without them again.
When he drags them from mine, I have to fight not to argue with him. But he quickly removes that idea from my mind when he says, “Perhaps the next time you keep me waiting for something, you don’t take so long.”
The next time.
The air I was holding onto tightly while waiting for him exhales out of me. “I won’t keep you waiting for anything ever again.”
His phone sounds with a text that he ignores. “I won’t allow you to.”
Another text comes in for him.
