Page 182 of Falling Backwards
“Sure you do.”
“Cross my heart, Maggie Moss.”
His tone has gone more serious here, and I love the sentiment.
Still, I say, “Next time something comes up, I’ll remind you to set a reminder for it.”
“Cool, if it’s important.”
“Even if it’s not.You can do it just to get into the habit.”
He waves a hand.“Nah, that’s not necessary.I remember most things.Whatever is evading me right now must not be that big of a deal.”
“Well, if you just go ahead, then you won’t keep forgetting to use the tool that will keep you from forgetting to do things you don’t wanna forget to do.Right?”
He finishes descending the stairs and turns to fully face me, and the way he looks at me is so warm and genuinely easy; he isn’t truly defending himself just like I’m not truly berating him.He puts his arms out to the sides, settles his hands on the wooden railings lining the stairs.I stop on the bottom step.Being near his height gives me free rein to soak up his expression, especially from this close.
I take my time doing it.
Warm and easy Luke is something to behold.
I’d say I look my fill of him, but it isn’t true; there’s not enough time for that.
Belatedly, I notice he hasn’t spoken again because he’s been soaking me up, too, while we’ve stood here.I don’t stop him.I want him to think warm and easy Maggie is something to behold too.
After another little bit, he finally murmurs, “I ought to set a reminder to find out how to get your first name changed to Bossy.”
I break into a smile, snort into light laughter.“Bossy Moss?”
He winks at me.“Mmhmm.”
The wind nudges at us, makes us tense up a little, causes my bangs to tickle my forehead and his raven hair to be mussed even more attractively than it was.My fingers go there, not quite stroking his hair, not quite resting on it.
His breath in is slow and goes deep.His eyes go slowly, too, over my lips, stirring a buzz in them.In a smooth second, his hands are in my coat and around my waist, lifting me enough for my feet to leave the step—my breath hitches and my free hand takes hold of his shoulder.With half a turn, he sets me on solid ground with him.I’m back to having to tilt my face up to see his.
Fun though the other angle was, there’s no denying that this one feels perfect.
Like the suddenly gentle, almost vulnerable intensity in his expression.
Like his hands no matter where he ever puts them on me.
Like those eyes falling shut as I allow my fingers to slip farther into his hair.
It hits me once again that no one has ever affected me the way he does.
I have to whisper, “You’re breathtaking, you know.”
He stays as he is for another few moments.Then his grip on me tightens, and his thumbs drag down over the fabric of my blouse—they’re as deliberate going back up as his new breath is going into his lungs.His eyes drift open again, and as they connect with mine, their intensity seems to heighten.It’s like his grip is tight around my heart as well.
“Thank you,” he says lowly.“Idon’tknow it about myself, but I know it about you.”
I don’t know it about myself either.
And yet where we stand with me in his hands, after all the times I’ve already been pressed against him and felt, seen, heard how highly he thinks of me…I also don’t know only self-conscious things about myself.Not anymore.
Little by little, he’s helping me realize I’m okay.
It…makes me feel brave.
