Page 74 of Something Like Fate

When my hands drift to his waistband, his hand presses over mine.

I feel the heat from his mouth and I pull in a breath, waiting for his lips to touch mine again. But they don’t. They hover, like a whisper, just close enough but not quite closing the gap. My heart pounds the longer our breath mingles.

I roam his face for any sign of discomfort, but he looks at ease. His eyes meet mine in a look I’m not sure I’ve ever seen. He’s no longer the sweet Teller I know. He looks like someone who knows what he wants and is going to take it.

Abruptly, Nettie and Loraine peel around the corner to catch their ride back. I’ve never been so grateful for an interruption.

25

We head back to Villa Campagna with Loraine and Nettie. Despite being stone-cold sober, we’re in hysterics as we make our way to our room. We’re so exhausted from the day, and giddy from what happened on the dance floor, that everything makes us vibrate with laughter.

The shirtless dude outside the restaurant listening to heavy metal with no earphones? Hilarious.

Loraine and Nettie belting Britney Spears? Snorting uncontrollably.

The villa employee who was running at full tilt through the living room with a pile of toilet paper rolls? Gut-busting, stomach-clenching laughter. I’m pretty certain we sound like squealing rodents.

Teller almost tripping on the carpet and face-planting when he tries to race me down the hall? Dead. Goodbye, earthlings.

Once we’re back in our room, just us two, the laughter dissolves into silence. I collapse into bed, makeup and clothes still on, but Teller spends longer than usual in the bathroom going through his usual nighttime routine.

What’s taking so long?I can’t help but wonder if he’s avoiding me. If he regrets what happened back at the restaurant.

The anticipation of him coming to bed nearly ends me. I shift and turn, unable to settle, not knowing what’s going to happen when he comes out. I should probably close my eyes and go to sleep. But my mind won’t stop racing. Thinking about his lips on mine. How warmhis chest felt against me. How I’ve never had a better kiss in my life. How those wild flutters in my stomach from earlier just won’t quit.

I know it was a one-time thing, a random kiss. But after one hit, I’m craving it all over again. It’s like I’m addicted to the sensation, his taste, his low moans.

Before I know it, I’m hovering outside the bathroom. I knock and the door swings open.

Our eyes meet in the mirror. He’s finished brushing his teeth and is leaning on the sink like he’s bracing himself. He’s shirtless and his abs are on prominent display.

“You good?” I ask, mouth suddenly dry as my eyes greedily take it all in, unable to concentrate. I think I’ve gone into overdrive. His stomach is so chiseled. Does he have a six-pack or an eight-pack? I can’t be sure.

My infatuation with his abs isn’t lost on him. “Are you?” he retorts, smug as he spins around so his back is against the counter.

Energy flashes between us like a live wire. I approach confidently, running my finger down the hard ridges of his abs, exploring, moving up his shoulders and down his arm, all the way to his sun tattoo. Gooseflesh erupts in my wake. I pull in a breath and all feels calm. Like I’ve always known this was going to happen.

He swallows. “What are you doing?”

“Seducing you.” It’s only when I say it out loud that I freeze. Am I actually trying to hook up with Teller Owens? The one who drives me crazy with his planning and disinfecting? The person I feel most comfortable with in the entire world? All without an ounce of liquid courage?

“Shit,” he hisses, lips hovering somewhere around my forehead. Something about his voice, the heady, fiery look in his eyes. He’s suddenly transformed into Sexy Teller again. With a featherlight touch, his fingertips skate up my arms, landing on either side of my face. He tips his head down so his nose slides along the curve of my cheek.

“Or at least, I’m trying to,” I say through the shiver running through me.

“It’s working.” He swallows hard, eyes sliding down every inch of me.

I could angle my head ever so slightly to line my mouth up with his. I’m dying to feel his soft lips on mine again, even for just a fraction of a second. By the hungry look in his eyes, I think he wants to kiss me too. The question is, is this a horrendous idea?

I rise onto my toes and test the waters, slow and steady. At the restaurant, the kiss happened so fast, so I want to savor this.This is right,his lips say, exploring, softly biting my lower lip. I drag my fingers through his thick hair and down the back of his neck. Then I work my way over his shoulders and down the planes of his back, pressing him to me and savoring every flex of his new muscles.

His hands move over my hips and in one swift movement, he’s spun us around and propped me on the counter. We’re a dizzy whirl of hands and fast kisses. Not the measured Teller I’m used to.

Suddenly, I feel constricted. There are far too many layers between us. I reach to the back of my dress, and he gets the hint, pulling me off the counter to help me take it off. With one swift flick, my bra is off too. Who knew Teller was so skilled in the bedroom?

“Wow.” His eyes slide down my body, slow, like he’s taking it all in. As they go lower, I catch the smallest upward curve of his lips.

“Why are you smiling?”

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