Page 42 of When We Meet Again

She takes a step closer to me but stays far enough away that I can’t reach out and touch her. Exactly where she’s been for the past six years, just out of my reach. “I’ll go change,” I finally say.

“Will you come back?” I know the words escaped her before she had a chance to stop them. But she tries to play it off, tucking her dripping hair behind her ears to distract me from her blush as she waits for an answer.

I smirk at her awkwardness. “I’ll always come back.”

She nods once before I leave and closes the door behind me. The short walk to my room across the hall is long enough to realize I have a problem in my pants and it’s not going anywhere. With one taste of her lips, I’m well and truly fucked.

I shuffle back to my room and take a cold shower.Ice cold. I was wet anyway. What's an extra bit of water if it saves my dignity. I barely waste any time in drying myself before throwing on some loose, gray sweatpants and any old shirt. I don’t care about what I’m wearing. All I care about is getting back over there to my girl. While I’ll wait as long as she needs me to wait, I’d rather waitwithher.

With a gentle warning knock, I creep open her door, braving a peek around the corner. She’s even more of a vision barely clothed. Not that I’m surprised… Her lean, slender, and very pantless, sun-kissed legs are cut off just below her ass by her oversized baseball tee—-mytee. She looks so adorable with my name across her shirt, running a towel through her long blonde hair. And her smile. As she catches my eye, her entire face lights up and she beckons me in. Naturally, I oblige and close the door gently behind me, turning back to face her.

“Where’d you get my shirt?”

“I found it laying on the sundeck, so I stole it,” she says proudly. “So, I was thinking we could watch a movie? I know it’s late, but we technically don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow. And…” She flips her hair dramatically over her shoulder. “It’s my fortieth birthday, after all.”

I don’t have the heart to tell her I have to be up at six-thirty to send Lena on her way, but sleep be damned. And besides, if I stay here, I get to spend more time with Waverly. If I stay here, I get to avoid going back to my room where Lena’s soon going to be.

It’s a safe bet Lena will want to have a talk aboutfeelings.“I never went back to the room with Lena. I actually sat on the deck, looking out at the horizon. Wondering where life is going to take us.”

Waverly stares at me with her big green eyes. “Us?”

“Yeah. You and me. Lena and I haven’t been together since right after Patrick died. She was just picking up some stuff she had left there before.” But this time, I broke things off with her for good after being off and on for years. Maybe it was me who was delusional that I would be able to have a chance with Waverly. As fucked up as that is…Waverly is the woman who engrained herself into my brain, into my heart, and she’s been nestled in there taking up all the space ever since. She puckers her lips and nods.

“So, movie?” she asks again, changing the subject to a safer topic.

“Sure. Let’s watch a movie.” I cross the short distance from the door and plop down on her bed, propping myself up against the headboard, before tapping the space next to me.

A pause halts her at the edge of the bed.

“Are you good?” I wish she’d tell me what’s going through her head. “Are you nervous or something?”

Waverly pulls her lips between her teeth and gives me a shy nod.

“What’s the difference between the plane and now?” I prod, trying not to let her fall too deep into an overthinking rabbit hole.

“I don’t know. We…”

“Kissed?” I finish her sentence after she pauses, and she nods. “Well, get used to it, Kensi.” I grab her hand and pull her onto the bed, and a scream-laugh comes out of her.What a noise that was.

She falls to her back next to me and I roll on top of her, caging her in. “We’re going to be kissing…a lot.”

The sparkle in her eyes is vibrant as they bounce between mine and my lips. I don’t move, though. I want her to make the first move. She needs to crave me as much as I crave her. “Are you going to kiss me now, or what?” My lips tilt before I lean down and run my lips teasingly along hers and she moans. “Roman!”

“Waverly,” I mumble, cocking a brow and touching the tips of our noses together.

“Kiss me, Roman. Please,” she whines as she arches her bottom half against me, causing my head to fall into the space between her neck.

Apparently, she likes my reaction because she thrusts against me again, but this time more calculated. I lift my head and groan as a rush of desire brings my lips to hers.

We’ve played the chase long enough. In this moment, the need to be kissing supersedes everything in my life.

A good hour or so is spent making out and fully clothed, heavy petting. In my head and my heart I know that his thing with her, it’s a marathon, not a sprint.But the lower half of me wants to race right to the finish line.

The kissing finally slows down and now we’re just lying with our heads on the pillows looking at each other. Our hands are joined in the middle of us as I rub small circles over her knuckle with my thumb.

“I like this,” I admit. “A lot.” I don’t want to mention what happened when she thrust into me that second time. My body was in overdrive, and I was seconds away from saying “fuck being a gentleman and taking it slow.” But I wouldn’t do that to her because I’m all in with her and we’ll take as much time as she needs.

“I likeyou.” She doesn’t smile or laugh, but watches my reaction to her confession.

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