Page 61 of The Likelihood Of You

Well, mine was anyway.

The thirty-second elevator journey to the top of the building was the same, except now, his hands found their way to my waist, my knees were threatening to cave in, and my spine tingled with anticipation.

I found it hard not to pinch myself, and trust that this was truly happening.

We left the lift in a hurry to get to his front door, our steps turning into a little run. I waited behind whilst he opened the door, unapologetically letting my eyes study the back of him, stopping onceI reached the two round curves covered by denim. The door sprang open, tearing my sorry eyes away from his mesmerising arse, and onto the panoramic views of my favourite city.

As expected, Bagel was waiting by the door like the patient lady she is, where she got a few head scratches from Jacob, before sprinting off to her food station, Jacob following behind her and slipping the tote bag of books from his shoulder and onto the coffee table.

I don’t know what it is, but there’s just something about men with tote bags. Something so natural, that I could quite happily watch him try on different ones for hours.

“Would you like a drink?” Jacob asked over his shoulder while he dealt with Bagel, ripping me from my thoughts.

“I’d love one, thank you,” I slipped off my cardigan, making my way to his couch and falling back into the spot that had already memorised my shape from the nights we’d read together.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jacob emerge from the hallway door with two glasses of red wine in his grasp. I felt those humid brown pools gazing at me and tried not to shiver when his hand returned to my thigh as he joined me.

“Thank you,” I muttered, taking the slender glass off him and taking a sip.

A cherry wine. Tasting it made every memory from that night at Pin’s flood my brain, kickstarting those giddy feelings that had simmered in his absence.

“Did you enjoy tonight?” He asked, taking a sip of wine.

“It was magical. I loved it.” I took another sip. “But, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

I had to ask this, for my own peace of mind, because overthinking seemed to be my mind’s favourite pastime. “Do you think we’re being hasty, saying…what we said? I just don’t want you to feel like you had to say it, just because I did.”

“Flo.”

“I know you, Jacob. I know you wouldn’t say something as life-changing as that if you didn’t mean it. I just…I wanted to make sure.”

His eyes didn’t break our stare, no blinking, just staring into my soul like he knew all my darkest secrets, like he knew something I didn’t. “Give me your hand.” He placed his glass on the table and weaved his fingers in mine, planting my hand over his heart. “Do you feel that?”

I felt his heartbeat in my stomach it was beating that intensely. My eyes dropped to my hand that was thumping right along with his heart, before looking into his eyes and nodding.

“This is what having you near does to me.” Those brown pools dropped slightly, before burning me again. “I love you, every inch of you. I love that I have someone whose dreams are as big as mine, that you’re sentimental and a constant little flame, that you’re not afraid to fight for the things you want.” My lips popped open. “I love the way your cheeks pop when you smile. I love how my friends love you. I even love your frangipane for crying out loud.” Both our smiles grew, and I dipped my head, but his hand flew to my chin in a flash, catching it before it fell. “I love you, and I wouldn’t want to utter those words to anyone but you. My dreamer.”

His dreamer.I was somebody’s dreamer.

There were no words that could convey how much what he said meant to me. My heart was oozing with so much light and happiness that it overflowed. He knew I loved him too; I didn’t need to repeat it, even though I wanted to.

I didn’t think those words would leave my lips in a non-platonic way for a long time, so to have the choice to say them triggered a feeling I wanted to treasure

The only thing I could do was to show him instead.

I leaned my head towards him, my hand still firmly connected with his on my thigh, as I parted my lips to kiss him. He was quick to react, releasing my thigh momentarily, grabbing my wine glass and hastily placing it on the driftwood table before us. Our hands were free to explore each other, with his cupping my face and mine resting on his lap. The air had shifted, like we’d hit play on the urgency that we’d paused before.

This kiss differed from the other two we shared; the first was sweet, the second was magical, and this one was begging us to do more. It was desperate.

Our lips parted and connected at a pace my head couldn’t keep up with. I felt him catching his breath every time our lips left each other, only for them to latch back on with triple the force. His tongue was slick with the red wine that had danced around his mouth not long ago; my mouth became addicted and pleaded for more of it.

One of his hands had glided around the back of my neck, gripping it with gentle power. I loved the feeling of being protected, like he was cradling my head from every bad thing that walked the earth.

I let my hands wander, wrapping them around his neck and pulling him closer. His other hand was sneaking further up my thigh thelonger we kissed. His movements were subtle, but not subtle enough that I didn’t notice how he was nearing the top of my leg, the catalyst to the pulse between them.

A few seconds later and it was at the point where I could feel him fingering the lining of my lace thong. I tried to hide how I caught my breath when I felt those light brushes, but he noticed the whimper that slipped from my tongue.

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