Page 89 of Fake As Puck
I roll over onto my side so I can see her silhouette in the dark.
“What if you could keep your place in LA and just visit me when you can?” I offer.
“That’s not a relationship, West. That’s a really expensive booty call.”
“It’s whatever we want it to be.”
“You’re not thinking this through. What about your life? Your schedule? I have an entire life in LA. I love watching your nieces and being around Tessa. Not to mention consistently being away from my parents isn’t going to be good, I’m their only stability.”
“Do you want this? With me?”
Another beat of silence, and each millisecond that passes eats at me. “Yes, I do.”
“Then get over here,” I mutter.
She laughs. “You come here.”
I drag myself out of bed and crawl onto hers.
“You’re so big,” she says as I lay next to her, untucking the sheets of the nicely made bed with my long legs.
“That’s what I like to hear,” I joke, and she pushes me. I grab her hand and pull her body into mine. “Come here.”
She snuggles her back against my chest. My heart is racing rapidly.
“I’ll do anything to get you to say yes,” I murmur into her hair. “To give us a shot.”
She pats my hand. “I don’t leave until the eighth, and then I’ll see you for the third wedding, right?”
“Right,” I say.
“Okay, then it’s settled. We’ll figure it out.”
I kiss her hair, and the room falls silent.
For the first time in weeks, I’m feel at peace.
Because she said we’d talk about it. That we’d figure it out.
I wake up at six-thirty to orange light streaming through the hotel window and the sound of Liv breathing softly next to me.
She’s still asleep, curled up on her side facing me, and for a moment I just watch her. The way her hair falls across her face. The way her mouth is slightly open. The way she looks peaceful in a way I’ve never seen before.
Last night happened. We kissed. We talked. We decided to stop pretending, to figure out how to move forward.
And now I’m lying here at dawn, watching her sleep, and I’m pretty sure I’m more gone than I was twelve hours ago.
I slip out of bed quietly and pad over to the window. The ocean stretches out endlessly, painted gold and pink by the sunrise, and I try to make sense of what I’m feeling.
I thought the kiss would settle something. Thought finally touching her, finally knowing what it felt like to have her want me back, would ease some of the tension that’s been building for weeks.
Instead, I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams.
Because the kiss wasn’t enough.
Not even close.
I want more. I want everything. Not just her body, though I want that, but her. Her thoughts, her time, her terrible jokes, her way of making coffee in the morning, her dances when she thinks no one’s listening.
