Page 55 of Glass Half Full
It’s like we’ve been exploring each other’s lives by lantern light, and I just stumbled upon a chasm I had no idea was waiting for me. I haven’t got enough light to see how deep it goes, but its jagged edges scar the surface of who he is. I don’t know how I’ve never seen it before, how he’s kept something that can make him sound so hollow hidden for so long.
“Whatever it is, whatever happened”—I reach for his hand under the table and guide it up until both our hands are just in front of my face—“I’m still here.”
I press my lips to his knuckles, and this man, this hilarious, handsome, broad-shouldered beefcake of a man, trembles from the press of my mouth to his skin.
“I’ve seen too much good in you to get scared away by any of the bad.” I kiss his hand once more for good measure before lowering it to the table. He doesn’t let go. Our fingers stay twined together there on the lacquered wood.
“I can’t thank you enough for saying that, Renee, but—”
“No buts,” I interrupt. “That didn’t come with conditions. You still want this after seeing me hyperventilate in an alleyway, after learning about the toughest parts of who I am. At least give me the benefit of the doubt when it comes to returning the favour.”
He stares at our hands wrapped around each other on the table as he gives a single nod.
“All right, Renee. I promise to doubt your benefit.”
“Asshole!” I want to smack him, but that would require pulling my hand away, and I’m not quite ready to do that. “I’m being serious.”
“I know.” His tone gets somber again. “Believe me when I say I want to share all of me with you, as fucking terrifying as that is, but there are parts of me, parts that have been kind of hard to ignore lately, that, well...They’re not things you share in a coffee shop on a second date.”
I nod.
Time. He’s asking for time. I can give him that.
“Taking it slow,” I reply. “Got it.”
He grins at me like he’s the one having secret thoughts now.
“What?” I demand. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I was just thinking about how proud of us I am. I’ve wanted to kiss you so bad it hurts since you got off that bus, and look at me, just sitting here resisting temptation.”
My gaze slides to his mouth, reminding me just how much I’ve wanted to kisshim.
“Please.” I can’t keep the urgency out of my voice. “Stop resisting temptation.”
He slides closer on the bench and detaches his hand from mine so he can slip an arm around my shoulders. His lips hover a breath away from mine before finally giving me what I want, what we both want—so badly it’s enough to make me feel weak with relief when I finally get it. His tongue sweeps over the crease between my lips, and I part for him, unable to deny the rush of intensity. Some distant part of me recognizes that we’re now having a dark-corner-of-a-bar style make-out session in broad daylight in a cute little cafe, but I can’t bring myself to care.
He tastes like espresso, dark and heady with the power to seep right into my veins. I could live on that taste. It’s more thrilling than any rush I’ve ever felt before. It makes me understand why people are so willing to destroy themselves chasing a high.
I don’t know how long we kiss for. I do know it’s time to cool things off when the urge to slide my body into his lap is interrupted by me bumping into the table and nearly knocking our drinks over. I was about to straddle him in a cafe.
“Jesus,” Dylan mutters. His eyes are still half-closed, just glittering slits that make me wish we were somewhere—anywhere but here.
“I think we just gave everyone a bit of a show,” I mumble. I resist the urge to look around the room, figuring I’d rather not know just how many people are staring or glaring.
“They probably thought we had some sort of hand fetish,” Dylan jokes. “At least now they know we also kiss like normal people.”
“There was nothing normal about that kiss,” I interject, so quick it almost comes out harsh.
“You’re right,” Dylan agrees. “That wasn’t even on the same planet as normal.”
His tone has me wanting to jump in his lap again.
“What do you say we get to the walking part of the walking and talking?” I suggest instead. “The rain has pretty much stopped.”
I try to sound casual, but once again, he reads my mind.
“You just want to make out in the park, don’t you?”
