Page 61 of Until the Storm Breaks
“You’re going to kill me,” he mutters against my neck, then trails hot kisses along my jaw.
“Good,” I manage, then have to bite my lip to hold back a moan when he finds that spot behind my ear that makes me melt.
His hand slides higher, thumb brushing the underside of my breast through my shirt, and I’m about to suggest we lock the door, consequences be damned, when?—
“Maren, the beer delivery is—holy shit!”
We spring apart like guilty teenagers caught by parents. My heart is hammering so hard I’m sure everyone can hear it.Jayson stands frozen in the doorway to the kitchen, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, a case of beer in his arms that he nearly drops.
“This is not what it looks like,” I say immediately, even though it’s exactly what it looks like. My lips are swollen, my hair’s a mess, and Calvin’s shirt is half untucked.
“It looks like you were making out with Calvin Midnight against your bar,” Jayson says, a grin spreading across his face. “Which, respect. Get it, boss. I can uh… give you a minute if you need to finish?—”
“No!” I say too quickly, my face burning hot enough to light the whole bar on fire. “No, we’re... Calvin was just leaving.”
Jayson’s grin widens to shit-eating proportions. “Sure thing.” He backs into the kitchen, still holding the beer. “I’ll just be back here. Being really loud with the dishes. Maybe singing. Badly.”
The kitchen door swings shut. Calvin and I stand there, three feet apart that feels like three miles. My mouth still tingles. His shirt is twisted, half untucked. His hair looks like I’ve been running my hands through it, which I have. We look absolutely wrecked.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, chest still heaving.
“Yeah.” It’s all I can say. My vocabulary has apparently been reduced to single syllables.
The silence stretches, filled with everything we’re not saying. The bar feels too bright suddenly, too exposed. I can’t look directly at him because if I do, I might pull him back in or push him away, and I don’t know which would be worse. My body is still humming at a frequency that apparently only he can hit, every nerve ending reaching for him even though we’re not touching anymore.This is what addiction feels like,I think.One taste and you’re ruined.
“This complicates everything,” I finally get out, stating the obvious.
“I know.”
We stand there, neither of us moving toward the door or toward each other. Suspended in this moment between what just happened and what comes next. I can feel the weight of all the reasons this was a mistake pressing down on us. But I can also still taste him, still feel the ghost of his hands in my hair, and my traitorous body doesn’t care about complications.
“Maren—”
“You should go,” I interrupt, because whatever he’s about to say will either make this worse or make me want it more, and I can’t handle either right now. My control is hanging by a thread. “Please. I need to think.”
He nods slowly, jaw working like he’s fighting words. “Right. Okay.”
He moves toward the door, each step deliberate, controlled. But before he leaves, he pauses at the threshold, hand on the frame, looking back at me with an expression I can’t quite read. Desire mixed with something softer, something that makes my chest ache.
“For what it’s worth,” he says quietly, “I’m not sorry.”
“Me neither,” I admit, the words escaping before I can stop them, surprising us both.
A small smile tugs at his mouth, just the corner lifting. “We should probably talk. Later. When we’re not...”
“When Jayson’s not listening through the kitchen door,” I finish, needing to break the tension before I combust.
“I can hear you!” Jayson calls out, proving my point. “And I’m not sorry either! This is the most exciting thing that’s happened here since Dolores fell off her barstool!”
Despite everything, I laugh. It bubbles up unexpected, slightly hysterical. Calvin does too, and for a moment the weight of all our complications lifts, and we’re just two people who want each other, standing in a bar, laughing at the absurdity of it all.
“Later,” he agrees, and there’s a promise in it that makes my stomach flutter. “Tonight? After you close?”
I should say no. I should establish boundaries. I should protect myself. Instead, I nod. “Tonight.”
Then he’s gone, the door closing with a soft click, and I’m alone with my racing heart and unsteady hands. My legs feel like jelly. I might actually slide to the floor.
I lean against the bar, trying to catch my breath, trying to think. Calvin Midnight just kissed me like the world was ending. Like he’d been dying to do it. And I kissed him back like I’d been waiting my whole life for it, which maybe I have been.
