Page 23 of You Had Me At Valentine

That is lovely. Butterflies swarm through my stomach and fly up into my throat.

“We don’t have to be dancing for me to want you to kiss me,” I prompt.

“Lyra, you’re going down a road that doesn’t have a lot of room for U-turns.”

I wave that off. “You’re thinking like a lawyer again. Haven’t you ever done something reckless, just because you wanted to? Without overthinking it?”

“No. I don’t even know what that looks like.”

He hasn’t moved from his seat and there’s a table between us but I can feel the heat from his intensity burning through the air. “It looks like leaning forward and letting yourself fall into the moment.”

“Is that what we’re doing? Making a conscious choice not to think about consequences?”

I laugh. “If you have to qualify it, you’re already doing it wrong. Who says there will be consequences? Maybe we’re just having some fun. Reconnecting. No one is talking about marriage proposals.”

The world stops as his gaze tangles with mine and what I see there squeezes my lungs tight.

“I’m not sure I can kiss you and not think about wanting to do it again. A lot,” he murmurs. “For the foreseeable future and also the parts I can’t see.”

That might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me. “What about what I want?”

“What do you want?”

Caught in the trap of my own making, I stare at him, utterly baffled that I don’t have a ready answer to that question. Other than to be kissed by Byron Hale. That one I know.

But why did a simple question trip me up so much? Because I know he’s asking about more than what I want in this moment, which is the exact opposite of the vibe I’m going for.

He’s asking what I want the future to look like. And how kissing him fits into that.

Honestly, I’ve only just started to see Byron differently. Just started to see that I might be ready to move past our history. I haven’t thought all of this through.

“What if I don’t know?” I challenge him. “What if I’m working on figuring that out but I’m not sure I know what all my choices are?”

“Fair.” His lips curve up. “And some of the choices may be potentially difficult. I’m just trying to make sure you’re aware you have them.”

This sounds suspiciously like the inn vs the resort conversation. Byron is not wrong about the difficulty, but I’m still not sure why he’s bringing that up again in the same breath as second chances and kisses.

I study his face in the lamplight. The boy I loved has grown into a man I barely know, and yet my soulrecognizeshim. Remembers exactly how it feels to fall, that dizzying spiral into bliss.

He’s so close. Close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in his eyes, count every one of his impossibly long eyelashes. I’m pretty sure he’s leaning into the moment after all.

“I know what I want right this moment.” I reach out and thread my fingers through his, the shock lighting me up inside. “I, Lyra MacLellan, being of sound mind and body, choose to kiss you, Byron Hale, for the next five-ten minutes, no future dates defined but definitely not off the table. If there are any objections, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Byron laughs and that’s when I lean into it, pressing my lips to his. Capturing that delicious sound inside me.

His lips are soft, hesitant for a fraction and I can feel him working up to the commit.

Then he does. He slants his mouth over mine, wresting control of the kiss away from me instantly. Effortlessly.

The world explodes into a thousand tiny stars that rival the ones at my throat. My fingers thread into his hair, years of buried feelings surging to the surface. He tastes like ginger and possibilities, and I want to drown in him.

Everything is familiar and yet not. As if we’ve done this a million times but never likethis.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. His forehead rests against mine, and I can feel his heart racing under my palm.

“That was...” I start, but words fail me.

“A really good choice?” His smile curves against my cheek where he’s currently nuzzling me.

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