Holy hell.
This whole thing would be easier if he didn’t feel sosolidand warm under my fingers.
If his face wasn’t so close.
If his eyes weren’t so bright.
Our foaming breath swirls between us in the messiest moment of my adult life.
I’m hot and cold and winded.
So is he.
There’s a red patch on his cheeks, probably from the scouring wind, which has really picked up in the last few minutes.
Yes, the wind, I decide. It must be.
That’s the safest explanation. Because if it has anything to do with the fact that we’re still holding each other tight, or the fact that I don’twantto let go—
We are screwed.
These thoughts alone are beyond dangerous.
But his breath spirals against my lips and the only thing I can hear is my heart thudding as Patton stares at me. His tongue runs over his lips for a second.
Breathe, Salem.
Oh my God, breathe.
My breath catches.
For one glorious heartbeat I think he might do something crazy like kiss me until I melt through the snow.
It’s been so long, but I remember how it felt. The heady desire, coming in waves, heat blooming through every nerve.
From the way his eyes ignite, like the sun catching summer waves in scintillating shimmers, he remembers too.
How do we even begin to deal with that?
“Mommy, what’s for dinner?” Arlo cuts in, and Patton releases me so fast I almost lose my balance for a second time.
“Oh.” If I once had sane thoughts, I’m not sure where they went. “I don’t know, sweetie. I’ll look when we get home.”
“Can we do pizza?”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Awwww.” He pouts. “That means no.”
“I know a great pizza place,” Patton says. “I’d be happy to take you. My treat.”
Good thing, too, because I know what sorts of places he likes if the coffee shop is any indication. High-end places that run a wine tab that costs more than my rent.
“I appreciate the offer,” I say, trying to force a smile, “but Arlo’s been spoiled enough for one day. Honestly, so have I.”
“Aw, Mom!” Arlo juts out his bottom lip.
“Maybe next time,” Patton says.