Page 89 of Forbidden Lyrics

The finality in his voice acts like another twist of the proverbial knife in my chest. Like I've been thrown into a fighting ring with my arms tied behind my back. Like I’ve already lost.

My hand drops to my side as I stare at the ground beneath our feet. “So… What now? What do you want from me?”

“I’ve been asking myself that same question, Dove.” A quiet scoff escapes him before he explains, “I’ve been trying to convince myself to stay away from you again. I spent hours on my guitar until blisters formed on my fingertips. But do you want to know the funny part?”

He tilts my chin up, forcing me to look at him.

“What?” I rasp.

“The only inspiration I could find was you.”

I suck my quivering lip into my mouth before he pulls it free with his thumb.

“What do you want from me, Gibbs?”

“I want you to let me touch you and only you. I want you to let me have a piece of you until a worthy man comes along and treats you the way you deserve.”

“And that’s not you?” I choke out.

He shakes his head. “It can’t be. A girl like you deserves the knight in shining armor, not the bloody bard.”

A laugh bubbles out of me, though it comes out as more of a whimper than anything else. “Is that all you think you are? The bard?”

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “In your fairytale, I’m afraid so. And you deserve that fairytale, Dove. Trust me.” The warmth in his gaze almost beats his resignation as it bounces around my face before he adds, “But I want to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me taste you. I know how much it means to give a piece of yourself to me the way you did.”

Blushing, I roll my eyes. “It’s not––”

“Don’t lie.” He pinches my chin, forcing me to look at him again even though my embarrassment is threatening to swallow me whole. “You’re terrible at it, remember? It was a big deal––”

“Gibbs––”

“Dove––”

“Gibbs,” I repeat, begging him to let me off the hook so I can keep an ounce of my pride. Being a virgin at twenty-two––especially when surrounded by people who weren’t raised with the same beliefs––is embarrassing. No, it’s more than embarrassing. It’s like I have a giant red ‘V’ sewn onto my shirt, and the guy that I really like gets to see it firsthand.

“Let me finish,” he scolds. “Do you wanna know the crazy part, Dove Walker?”

I bite my lip but don’t answer him.

His thumb drags against the plump flesh before he pulls my lip free. Again. Like we’re in a twisted round of déjà vu, though I’m not sure I want to wake up. Especially if he keeps looking at me like this. Like I really do belong in a fairytale. Like I’m precious. And desirable. And not a complete idiot for still having my stupid V-card when he lost his at fourteen.

“It was a big deal to me too,” he murmurs.

The sincerity in his voice makes my stomach do a flip and gives me a hope that’s dangerous. Terrifying, actually. Because if it takes hold again, and I let myself fall for the man in front of me, I may not survive the aftermath.

“Do you mean that?” I whisper.

He nods, a soft smile etched across his handsome face. “Yeah. I do.”

“But what about Em? And Milo? And threesomes? I’m not a threesome type of girl––”

“Em and I are through. Trust me. And Milo and I aren’t pursuing that lifestyle right now, either. We decided it’s safer for our friendship to keep those boundaries intact. But even if we were, it wouldn’t matter. You’re the only one I want. And I’m not willing to share you.”

“For now,” I clarify.

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