Page 46 of My Book Boyfriend
But I plop down in the reading nook I’ve created in my bow window and pat the seat next to me. It’s a little cramped, but there’s still space. And it’s definitely safer than the bed.
Or he could sit in my chair by my small desk.
But I want him next to me.
For one cup of hot chocolate.
He sits down beside me, and my heartbeat races. He drinks his hot chocolate as I sip mine, the marshmallow melting perfectly to add sweetness. He puts his cup down on my handy, little table placed near the window for precisely that purpose and swings my legs over his thighs. And he massages my stockinged feet. Gently.
The shivering sensations cascading up my body are not gentle, though. I close my eyes and lean back. Yum.
“Are they okay?” he asks, his voice deep and quiet.
“They’re a lot better now.”
Bella’s voice:Can you date him even if he destroys the garden?
I don’t know.
His fingers knead the soles of my feet. I let the sensations relax me.
And Bella’s voice whispers in my head, again, from when she told me to ask Aiden how he feels. I should have done that.
The only way forward is to be totally honest and up front.
I swing my feet off his lap and open my eyes to face him. “You seem like a great guy. Like an amazing guy. The kind that doesn’t exist in real life. But the garden saved me.”
I look down and bite my lip. He is silent. Outside, the noise from the wheels of one lone car cruising down the street pierce the quiet.
“The thing is, after my mother died, my father sold our apartment to travel. Somewhere where there were no memories of my mother. He couldn’t stay here for me.” I wasn’t enough. I swallow the lump in my throat.
“And it was the right decision for him. He sounds really happy now and a lot less destroyed. But the thing is that Mrs. Potter and the rest of the Oasis gardeners, as well as all my library patrons and my friends … I found them and built a new community. A new family. And yes, affordable housing is crucial for those families—the ones who get it. I recognize that. It’s fine. I realize you can’t save the community garden. I can’t ask you to do that, just like you can’t ask me to drop the lawsuit. But I think we may need to table this until there’s a decision either way and then see if we can have a relationship. It’s too conflicted now.”
“I’m not asking you to drop the lawsuit,” he says. “Do your worst. I want to save the garden, and whatever pressure you can put on, that helps.”
I stare at him. The light from the streetlamp outside illuminates his square jaw.
“It would be a lot easier, obviously, if we could just demolish the garden and move forward with the building.” He shrugs. “But I’m up for this challenge. I can’t promise I will succeed. I don’t want to make any false promises.”
He leans in close to me and smiles crookedly. “So do your worst, Lily. Don’t hold back.”
Our glances meet. My heart races.
Don’t hold back.
I reach out to run my hand through his tousled hair. His eyes go dark, and he watches me, still. I lean in closer, keeping eye contact. He reaches out his hand—to stop me?
No.
He pulls me closer. “I’m going to kiss you. Okay?”
“Yes. Do your best.” I grin wickedly at him. “Don’t hold back.” I brush his hair off his face as he cups my head and leans in to kiss me firmly.
Mmm. He tastes of chocolate and red wine as I kiss him back, running my hands through his soft hair. He growls and pulls me onto his lap. I hug him tightly. He’s got one hand in my hair and one hand holding me against him. I arch forward as his fingers tease a hot trail of desire across the bare skin of my back. His hands come back up to caress my face as our tongues explore and tease, like this may be our only chance to taste each other and show each other that we fit together. All my frustration and desire pour out.
I want to forget about the garden. I want it to be just us—two people who are attracted to each other.
He trails kisses down my neck to the swell of my chest. And then pauses. Torturing me. He kisses my neck as I strain toward him. His five-o’clock shadow scrapes my shoulder. I’m holding on to him, tightly grasping his shoulders.
