Page 25 of Locked Down In Watch Hill
“Never.”
We drank in silence for a while, and I realized that I enjoyed silence with her, and the easiness that came with it, something that surprised me, something that I wasn’t sure I’d ever had with anyone else. She was just—different. Comfortable with me. Not at all like the other women I’d met in the city, or the ones I’d seen her with on the night our paths had crossed.
“You’re really beautiful,” I suddenly said.
“What?” She looked up from the croissant, which she’d just torn into. “What did you say?”
“I said you’re beautiful.”
In a past life, I would have probably shied away from this statement, but not now. If there was one thing I’d learned about life thanks to this blasted pandemic, it was that time shouldn’t be wasted because the future wasn’t promised.
“I thought that when I met you,” I added. “But now I don’t have to think it. I know it.”
Ashley’s cheeks flushed. “You do?”
“Yes, and when ... when this is all over, I want us to try. I want to ... I want see more of you.”
She stared at me for a breath that seemed to last an hour.
“Why wait until then?” she whispered.
And she was right. Why wait until then? Why put off what I wanted any longer?
I knew what she was saying—what she meant, what she wanted. What I wanted too. I knew we should wait, that it would be the prudent thing to do—the responsible thing. But what did one more day really count, in the end? She’d made it—she had.
We’ve made it.
Steeling myself, I got up from my chair and closed the space between us. Cupping Ashley’s chin, I pulled her to me and pressed my lips to hers, kissing her, finally doing the very thing that had hung between us since the moment I’d delivered that pizza a few days before.
It was glorious.
As Ashley kissed me back, I realized how much I’d missed human contact, how much I’d suppressed now that no one was shaking hands, and hugs were off limits. I hadn’t touched anyone in months, backing up when people approached and shying away from what would have been thoughtless.
But she was in my arms.
Our kiss deepened right along with the emotion behind it, the relief that came with the connection we’d been denied. She moaned against my lips and my fingers twirled her hair. I wanted to pull her against me, to tie her to my body and twist every part of myself around her.
“Where’s your bedroom?” I asked just before I trailed a long line of kisses along her jawline.
“I’ll show you,” she breathed.
