Page 39 of The Sweetest Connection

“It’s like... you found that pros and cons list and you worried the person who lost it would take it as a sign, right?”

“Sure.”

“Well, back then, last time... I felt like that. Like, we were so far apart, it was a sign that the kiss was a mistake we couldn’t come back from.” The warmth from his palm radiated through my body. “And I thought I’d lost you.”

My breath hitched when his palm edged lower. “Okay. And now?”

“Now we’re talking about it.” When he dropped his other hand from under his head to stroke my hairline, the combination of touches put me on edge in the most delicious way. His fingertips slid under the waistband of my shorts and I went limp with anticipation, imagining where his touch would land next. “I want to do this right, though. Are we setting ourselves up for failure starting a relationship the day you leave the country?”

“It’s hard to think when you’re doing that,” I said, wiggling under his hand, attempting to nudge him further.

“Sorry,” he said, grinning and stilling his hand. “I think we should talk; it’s just hard to stop touching you.”

I studied his expression, his cheeks a little pink, eyes that were hooded focusing on my face. “We’ll talk and then touch,” I said, soaking in the warmth of his hand.

“Go to France and do all the things you planned on doing and I’ll be here when you get back. I’m not running and neither are you.”

“You don’t want to talk while I’m there? It’s going to be months.”

“Maybe we could talk once a week or something. I don’t want to be the reason you don’t take time to do everything you want to do while you’re in France and during all your side trips. You’ve waited so long for this and I don’t want to be a distraction that keeps you from soaking it all in.” He dropped a kiss to my shoulder and I smiled that his decision for us not to touch was abandoned so quickly.

“Si ...” I knew he was right. There was so much I wanted to do, and I’d want to tell him about what I’d seen virtually all the time. “What if we hate only talking once a week?”

He kissed my shoulder again, brushing the skin. “I was lying awake last night and listening to your snoring shake the walls.”

I poked him in the side where I knew he was ticklish, earning a laugh.

“And I thought about how we’ve been inseparable since we met. You’ve been a constant in my life since I was eighteen and I in yours. If we hate it, then we’ll make a new plan, but maybe being apart before we’re together wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

“You want to date other people?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “No! I mean, do you?”

“No... unless he’s hot and rich and French.”

“Obviously. Same.” Silas smiled and I felt his palm slide incrementally lower. “But we could talk once a week and you can do all your adventures and I’ll do my thing here and, save the emergence of a hot, rich, French man in either of our lives...” His hand dipped lower, fingers grazing my needy places.

“You’re touching me again.”

“I know.” He slid his fingertip in slow circles that made me groan, and then he spoke close to my ear, the feel of his breath like more fingers on me. “When you get back, we can figure out what happens next. I know you’ll want to keep traveling when you finish school, and who knows what happens if I move up with the airline. Maybe this will be good preparation.”

“Okay,” I said, letting my legs fall apart, writhing already under his teasing touches.

“Okay?” His eyes met mine as his fingers worked me into a frenzy.

“Yes, but please, just—”

Silas grinned and slid under the blankets in a flash, wriggling like an oversized garter snake and making me laugh as his mouth found me under the blankets.

“That.” I stared at the familiar ceiling as pleasure rolled through my body, and I tried to imagine what it would be like to only talk to my best friend once a week.

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