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14
ZAC
Iwaited, my heart banging against my rib cage as she thought about it. Going into this, I’d asked Jo to tell me what to say or do to get Layla back. This whole starting over thing had been completely off the cuff, though, and I had no idea if it was even the right move.
But I knew Layla. And I knew the love I had for her and how I’d do anything for the chance to be with her again, and it had just come to me, so I’d rolled with it. Now I needed to wait for her answer. And wait, I would. As long as it took.
Finally, she turned, and I stepped toward her without even thinking about it. The world seemed to be turning in slow motion as she looked up at me, her chest rising and falling with every short breath. “When you say you’re not giving up until you get a hard no, does that include understanding that this might not work?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, if we give it another shot and start over, but we simply can’t get past what happened, you’ll be fine to go our separate ways?”
My brows went up and I took a step back. “Fine? I don’t know aboutfine. But failing to make it work hasn’t crossed my mind.”
“It hasn’t?”
“No. I figured the biggest hurdle would be this part. The part where you’re even willing to try. After that, I planned to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Layla closed her eyes as a small smile tugged the corners of her mouth up. “Well, I hope that’s how it goes. And we won’t know unless we try, right?”
“Right.” Reaching up, I cupped her face with my hands so she’d look at me. “So, that’s a yes?”
“Yes.”
The second the word was out of her mouth I brought my lips to hers. I’d wanted to kiss her since the moment I saw her walking toward me on Main Street weeks ago, so much so that I’d literally dreamt about it more than once.
But as her lips moved beneath mine and she tilted her head to let the kiss grow deeper, it was better than any dream I could have had. Better than the memories I’d carried with me for the last three years. And, if I wasn’t mistaken, even better than it was when we were together before.
Drawing her closer, I moved my hands from her cheeks to around her back, securing her to me. Her hands were at my chest, fingers wrapped around the lapels of my suit jacket like she never wanted to let me go. And she better not, because now that kissing Layla was back in the realm of possibility for me, I’d die a happy man if it never ended.
“Wait,” she said, tearing her lips from mine and looking up at me with a hint of humor in her dark eyes.
“What?”
Whatever it was, I hoped it was quick so we could get back to the kissing part. I’d for sure missed her when we were apart, but I hadn’t realized how much until that kiss. It was like the feeling of her sweet, familiar lips brought out a longing that I’d kept tightly locked away so it wouldn’t eat me alive. My brain was fuzzy, and my chest hurt—in a good way, finally—and we had the rest of our lives to talk, as far as I was concerned.
“Would you really kiss me like that if this was our first meeting?”
I looked down at her, stunned, then let out a short laugh. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious. That was definitely not a ‘Hey, I just met you’ kinda kiss.”
No, it definitely wasn’t. It was more of a “Hey, I’m out of my mind in love with you and never want to go a day without my lips on yours for the rest of my life” kind of kiss. But that might be a little much to admit out loud.
“I think the hypothetical thing was getting a little tired, don’t you?” I asked, hoping she agreed. “I know we can’t pick up where we left off on everything, but the kissing? Please don’t make me start over there, too.”
Layla let out a laugh that sent a shot of warmth right through me, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at me, still wrapped firmly in my arms. “Okay, I suppose we don’t have to start over with the kisses. That might be a little hard.”
“Ah, thank you.” I leaned down to kiss her again, but after one featherlight brush of our lips, she leaned back again. I squeezed her waist. “Now what?”
“Hello? We’re at my best friend’s wedding.”
“Yes, we are.” I punctuated each word with a quick peck. “What’s your point?”
“My point is, I want to get back to the reception and celebrate with my friends,” she replied, giving me a peck of her own to punctuate it. “There will be time for kissing later.”
“Promise?”
