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I shrug and start to pull away, but he tightens his grip on my arm and doesn’t allow me to hide. He’s this stranger walking me home, but I feel like he can see right through me. I focus on anything other than his intense gaze. His other hand falls to my waist. I gasp, and his attention drifts to my mouth.
“Are you going to kiss me?” I ask breathlessly when the moment lingers, along with his eyes on my lips. Anything that pops into my mind seems to tumble out of my mouth.
“Do you want me to?” he asks.
“You know I do,” I whisper honestly.
One side of his mouth lifts. “Now, how would I know that?”
I sigh, feeling the weariness down deep inside my bones and succumbing to the alcohol as it acts like a truth serum inundating my system. “Because … all the girls want you.” I stealthe words of Jessica this time, the woman who might or might not be his girlfriend.
He chuckles. “Is that right?” He drifts closer.
“You know it is.”
How does he get beneath my skin the way he does? I’m acting on pure instinct when I lift to my toes and meet him halfway across the space that separates us.
And then we kiss. I’m not sure if he initiated it or if I did, but I don’t think I care either way.
It’s gentle at first and tentative. I think he’s giving me the opportunity to push him away if I don’t want this, but I’ve never wanted anything more. I don’t know if it’s my unstable emotional state, or the drinks coursing through my veins, or … what. But it’s obvious how much I want him as I’m tugging him closer. He smells like pine needles and some type of spicy cologne.
“You taste like IPA,” I observe when we pull apart for a breath.
He smirks, and I like the sight so much that I mimic him.
“You know you liked that beer even though I’m sure you’ll never admit it.” He pauses for a beat, searching my face. His expression falls until he isn’t smiling anymore. He just stands there, studying me like I’m an enigma. “Where the fuck did you come from, Lo?”
“The city,” I say, my sluggish brain taking his rhetorical question literally. A moment later, I register what he just called me. “Lo?”
“That’s what I’m going to call you. Lo.”
Everyone else always calls me Willow or Will. Never Lo. I like the nickname. I love it even more since Zane gave it to me because, now, it’s a secret we share. A familiarity.
“Lo.” I nod, agreeable to almost anything.
He kisses me again, deeper this time, and I memorize the way it feels to be wrapped around him. It’s reckless and wild and spontaneous—three things I haven’t been in a very long time. But at the same time, this all feels very natural.
The sound of tires on gravel pulls us apart just before the headlights of a vehicle sweep across our embraced bodies and the road. Zane’s fingers drift down my arm until they’re sliding through mine, connecting our hands. My skin tingles where he’s touching me, proving you’re never too old to enjoy a good handholding with a man you might like. I feel like a kid again as we start walking, our arms gently swaying between our bodies. The problems of my world melt away with the touch of his hand.
“I thought you didn’t like me,” I admit.
“I haven’t decided if I like you or not yet,” he murmurs.
I can’t tell if he’s kidding or serious. “Do you go around kissing women you don’t like?”
He hums, but doesn’t answer, making me wonder if maybe he does. I’ve heard of hate sex, so maybe there’s hate kissing too.
We walk the final two blocks to my house, staying quiet the rest of the way. I have a soft smile on my face and the taste of Zane on my lips. The tears on my cheeks have dried. My head is muddled by alcohol shots and mixed drinks and beer, along with thoughts of the mysterious man shadowing me. But it’s better than swimming in the past, like I was earlier. Zane has the magic to make all the bad disappear. I feel lighter—at least for right now.
“Beer before liquor, never sicker,” I mumble drunkenly, trying to think of the saying.
I can feel Zane smile beside me. “Liquor before beer, you’re in the clear.” He chuckles after finishing my thought.
My head turns so I can see him. Stoic Zane is attractive. Amused Zane is off-the-charts hot.
Having his attention on me is like being in the dark for my entire life and suddenly having a spotlight shining on me.
“You should smile more,” I say. “It looks good on you.”
