Page 41 of When We Meet Again

Instead, I feel alive. With him, I’m reborn.

I don’t think before I bring his bottom lip between mine, and I feel him inhale a shaky breath. He slides his arms along my arms, over my collarbone, and up my neck before he wraps his hand in my hair. He wants to run this kiss, and I’ll let him.A kiss in the rain.

I stop the kiss, pull back just enough to look up at him and smile. “This is better than I thought it would be.” He smiles and pulls me in and closes the last inches between our mouths as fireworks go off behind us. Roman Huxley tastes like an addiction. Like something new, something so bad, yet so good, that I should have been doing this entire time.

I turn around and admire the red and white lightning of the sky for a flash of a second, grinning from ear to ear.

He turns me around to face him as he also wears the brightest smile. I can’t help but mirror him. My happiness in this moment makes me want to scream into the night sky.

“Happy Birthday, Waverly,” he whispers, pushing the wet hair out of my face. A rumble of thunder surrounds us, and the lightning is closer.

I’m not sure if he sees the tear running down my cheek, or if it’s camouflaged by the rain, but a soft sob escapes me. “Thank you.”

I pull my lip between my teeth and grab his hand. Gray eyes fall to where we are joined. I know he feels it, too, that zing when we touch each other. Like there has to be more touching—that things have to progress from friendship. He’s made all the moves so far.So now it’s my turn.

It’s my turn to guide him—straight to my room. The living room is desolate, dimly lit from a small light in the hallway. I lead him into my room, trying to forget it’s Patrick’s, closing the door behind him and locking it. I have no idea what’s about to happen, if anything, but I don’t need an interruption.

“Waverly…” he says, his voice soft.

“Just…give me a minute, Roman. Okay? Just a minute? Please?” I glide my hands up the wet skin of his neck to his jaw and his head falls back, letting out a breath. My fingers find the hem of his soaked shirt, lifting it up before he helps me take it off as it drops at our feet.

Skating my fingers over his pecs, admiring every inch, they dip to his lean torso, and his muscles tense under my touch. His head drops and his gaze follows my caress as his whole body seems to be filled with waiting. Our eyes meet briefly before my lips twitch as I hide a daring grin. He cocks a brow like he’s waiting to see where I’ll touch next. I lick my bottom lip beforepulling it into my teeth. Then I feel his stormy eyes boring into mine, watching every movement.

I’m not sure where this boldness is coming from, but I’m lettingthisversion of me take over.

Roman’s arms stay down by his sides, giving me free rein of his body. Freedom to explore, admire.Kiss.

Slowly and seductively, my gaze falls lower. My fingers follow over the ridges and valleys, brushing the ever-so-sexy “V” of his that I’ve only overheard women half my age talking about. I glide my fingers through the cervices and back up again, moving to the patch of hair that travels from his belly button and disappears into his sweats. I lower myself to his abdomen and poke out my tongue, slowly zig-zagging it over the small strip, taking me lower and lower.

“Waverly,” he growls my name—not Kensi, but my real name—deep in the moment, not between old friends, but between a man and a woman who are teetering a fine line. A line that would be impossible to come back from. A line that neither of us wanted there in the first place, if only that night would have ended differently.

I stop at his pants, pulling my lip between my teeth again. My heart is banging against my rib cage as I stand.

I casually rake my eyes back up the skin I just admired, finding his eyes as I hook my fingers on the waistband of his pants. He finally lifts his arms and pulls me into him, tilts his head, studying me.

A dip of his head brings his lips close to mine. They ghost over mine while his breath is heavy and wanting.

“Roman,” I pant. And obligingly, he leans down to kiss me once more, my body aching for his touch.

Eventually, I pull back and allow the moment to catch up to me. “Do you mind if we take a minute?” I ask, admiring his dark hair, messy from the wind and rain. I admire his lips, pink fromkissing me like his life depended on it. As much as I’m quickly becoming obsessed with kissing and touching him, and feeling how his body reacts to my wandering hands, I need to take a step back. I need to figure out what this all means.

“Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere,” he rasps. “I’m all yours.”

CHAPTER 22

ROMAN

Kissing Waverly was everything I thought it would be. It’s only solidified my feelings toward this woman. I clench my fists at my sides at the thought of how we haven’t been doing this for the past half-decade—the time we missed out on. The tension releases almost immediately when I stare at the woman before me. How she’s always been so open with me. Always discussing the big things in life, not just the surface shit, but the real shit.

She’s asked for a minute, and at this point, I’ll give her however long she needs. I’ve waited long enough to finally get what I wanted that night at the bar. A chance to kiss the most beautiful woman in the room. What’s a few more minutes? Even a few more days, weeks, months? I can wait for her.She’swhat I’ve been waiting for this entire time.

“Should I… I should… I should probably get going,” I thumb behind me toward the door.

“Please don’t!” The pleading of her voice causes the corners of my mouth to turn up. What’s the use of hiding it?

It’s nice to know she’s not regretting that kiss. “I… Well, let me change first. You should get out of those wet clothes, too.”

I smile, trying to show her that us kissing doesn’t have to be athing.It doesn’t need to be talked about. At least not right now. Not until she’s ready.

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