Page 91 of Crave Me

My knees fall on either side of his hips. “Then what are you doing?” I ask, clasping his jaw and meeting his lips.

He grins against my mouth when I take nibble. “Trying to show you that I’m happy . . . and that I love you, too.”

I release his jaw slowly as the truth behind his admission reflects in his eyes. He plays with my hair, allowing the strands to slip through his fingers. “I didn’t believe in love at first sight until I saw you,” he begins.

“Stop,” I say, averting my gaze.

“I can’t,” he says, lugging me back into a straddle when I try to scramble away. “Your face, your heart, the way you spoke, everything about you ensnared me and refused to let go.” His grin dwindles. “I can’t sleep until I feel you beside me. And every time you leave, I’m empty and lost. It’s only when I see your smile that I’m able to take my next breath.”

“Quit reciting all that Shakespeare stuff.”

“It’s not Shakespeare,” he says. “It’s me, telling you how I feel.”

I don’t want to cry. And I won’t. So I sit there with my hands covering my mouth like they can somehow hold everything I’m feeling in.

Just so you know, my hands are doing a shitty job.

“Never have the words ‘raging asshole,’ sounded as sweet as when they slipped from your mouth,” he tells me. “Second only to ‘mind your damn business.’”

“Oh, gawd.”

He lowers my hands when I laugh, scanning my face. “I love you, Wren,” he says again. “My heart and soul belong to you.”

The force by which I throw my arms around him should have us toppling backward and onto the mattress. But Evan’s strength holds like always, keeping us in place and making me whole.

---