Page 47 of The Photograph

I want to roll my eyes, but maybe I also want to help him, too.

“Maybe they feel insecure when you do it to them. Maybe that’s why it never works.”

Why doesn’t he get this? This is an important conversation, probably the first honest one we’ve had. He’s so unrealistic. Does he realize that?

He tuts. “You’re not insecure about anything.”

That’s such a sweeping statement to make about anyone. “I’m not insecure most of the time. I don’t need to be told I’m great. But I do want someone who listens and supports me when life gets hard, and tough things are always coming down the road.”

“Does he give you that? The understanding and the …” He waves his hand again almost like these are weird attributes that no one has ever talked to him about. Perhaps they haven’t.

“Yes, yes he does.”

“And I guess I didn’t.”

“Don’t put yourself down like that. We had a lot of fun together and I wouldn’t change it. You’re a blast, George. The sleeping around was just difficult for me. But I think if you canfind somebody who wants an open relationship, then you’ll have found your guy.”

“Why can’t I meet someone who likes me the way I am?”

Laughing, I pull him into a hug. “I think you will do eventually, and in the meantime, I hope we’ll always be friends,” I say.

He hugs me, then pulls back and makes a face at me. “I miss you, Des,” he says, before diving past me into the washroom and my chest clenches. I’m sad for him, but I’m not conflicted about him anymore.

I hope I’m really moving on.

20

DES

Alex places his tray on the floor. “Is your sister back tonight?”

“Staying with the MMA fighter, apparently,” I say, glancing at him.

He leans over, pressing his face into my shoulder and inhaling. I pull back, and he chews the inside of his cheek, eyes on my knees as the color rises in his cheeks. He clears his throat.

“You always smell so nice.”

“It’s my shower gel, which you could use if you stayed over,” I say, shrugging and picking up my wine from the coffee table and taking a sip before turning back to the screen where Abby is explaining some forensics to Gibbs and the team.NCIS. The best.

Making these jokes from time to time with Alex is my way of reminding him that he’s always welcome to take this further. He’s staring at the side of my face, so I turn my head. “What?” I say.

He leans in again, eyes tracking mine, and soft lips find my jaw, trailing up toward my ear. My eyes flutter closed as he slides his hand to the back of my neck. It’s the first time he’s done anything remotely like this, and I bring my hand up to his hair,fine and silky under my palm.This is the first time I’ve touched it. Holy shit. I’ve watched him flick it out of his eyes every time I’ve seen him, but I’ve never let it run through my fingers.

“Des,” he croaks like someone has a vice around his throat, and I open my eyes, turn my head, and his mouth finds mine blindly, urgent and demanding as I shift back onto the arm of the couch. He follows me down, his lips never losing contact even for a second, and I press my hand into his chest, fingers splayed.God, what is this?I want to make the most of every bit of it. My other hand crumples into his shirt, and he moans into my mouth, biting my lip, and the speed of it is like a flame catching paper. A hand invades my hair, and there’s nothing but the soft feel of him and his tongue playing with mine.More, more, more.

My hands drift down his sides to where his shirt is tucked into his pants, and I pull the fabric up and slide my hand beneath the cool cotton, finding hot tight skin that tenses under my fingers as I trail them down his abs.He’s solid muscle. He’s been holding out on me.Drifting around his back, I’m trying to explore him everywhere, but he breaks the contact, our eyes locking as he lifts up and latches on to the collar at the back of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head.

And oh, look at this!He’s gorgeous: muscley and skinny, smooth and pale, and I skim my palms all over his chest as I harden in my jeans.

His eyes are almost wild as they meet mine, groaning as he comes back down, sucking on my neck again.

“Des.”

The hard length of him is solid against my hip, and I shift, wanting to get him pressing into me where I need him.

“This is so good,” he groans. “I’ve never …”

A tremor rolls through him and I still.What?Why is he …?Oh!Jesus.He’s never done this with aguy. I blink up at the ceiling. The dim light of the side lamps cast a honeyed glow overthe whole room, and I run my hands down the warm skin of his back.

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