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“What happens next?”
Well.
That was one way of lifting my gaze all the way up.
And what I found waiting in his stare…
Holy shit.
His sensual surety swelled in me, heated and simmering and straining. Pushed at my mind, which I’d closed so damn tightly since learning he and Ambyr were going to be Arcadia’s next golden couple.
I wasn’t golden. I was nowhere near it. I’d tried to become that once, yearning to be perfect enough for Ryan and his polo-wearing, football-loving, missionary position world, but in the end, it had all fit as shitty as a wrong-sized bra. Hadn’t been pretty. Or happy.
But the man leaning over me now…
Staring with such intensity now…
He fit.
Dammit, I have no idea how I knew it. But how did flowers know to open every morning? How did seagulls know how to drift on the wind? It just was. He just was. It was fruitless to fight it. To even try, in my mortal and meaningless way, to resist.
Sometimes, heat was meant to burn.
Locks were meant to be released.
Battles were meant to be lost.
And right here, right now, was that such an awful thing? Did it make me a hideous person? He hadn’t given Ambyr a ring yet. He hadn’t given Ambyr a kiss yet.
He just wanted to know…
What came next.
And God freaking help me, I wanted to show him.
