Page 58 of The Autumn We Fell in Love

She waves her hands at me like it’s obvious. “Um, you’re perfect. You’re beautiful. You’re super smart and funny and nice. Why would you like me?”

I blink.

Then I blink some more.

I turn her words over in my mind.

I’m pretty sure that Shira just said she likes me.

That she feels the pull between us.

That she wants me.

I seize her other hand now, crushing both of hers in both of mine. “I like you because you’re perfect. You’re beautiful and smart and funny and so very lovely to be with. Whywouldn’tI like you?”

“You — you could have anyone . . .” she says weakly, voice trailing away.

“I don’t want just anyone. I want a woman who knows who she is, who knows what she wants.” I lean as close as I can with the table between us. “I want a hell of a woman. A woman just like you.”

“It truly is the perfect moment,” she breathes, more to herself than to me.

Then, rummaging in her purse, she drops three hundred-dollar bills on the table and, before I can get my protest out, stands, offering me her hand.

“Come on,” she says. “I need you to kiss me immediately and this table is seriously cramping our style.”

I’m on my feet in an instant, fire in my belly, heart pounding through my ribs at the fact that this is happening.

She wants me, and she wants me for who I am, not how I dance.

Liquid heat running through my veins, I take her hand and pull her from the restaurant out into the cool night.

Shira

Ifeel like I’m stuck in a romance novel. Laurent tugs me out of The Wine Cellar and I happily follow without resistance. My skin hums at the prospect of what’s to come.

He pulls me along the sidewalk and to the town square settled in the center of Merlot’s downtown. Now he turns, capturing my other hand, walking backward toward the iconic fountain with its central wine glass.

I’ve always thought that wine glass decorative fountain was so ridiculous. But with Laurent’s eyes on me, I’m willing to reconsider anything and everything under the sun, as long as he’s with me.

He feels so far away. Too far away.

Laughing, I break free of his hold and launch myself into his arms. I thread my own arms around his neck, loving how we’re the perfect height for me to only have to stand a little bit on tiptoe to kiss him.

Which I do.

I press my lips to his, heart galloping beneath my sternum, joyful butterfly wings tickling the inside of my stomach.

This is perfect. He’s perfect.

The best part is how he kisses me back.

Hands on my low back, he presses me close so I can feel how aroused he is, how he’s just as ready for me as I am for him.

And god, it’s thrilling. Me, the weird, awkward chick has turned this paragon of manon. It’s almost more than I can understand.

But I don’t want to understand. For once, I want to get out of my head and into my body. I want tofeel.

My fingers reach up the back of Laurent’s neck, caressing the base of his short-shorn hairline. I open my lips and his tongue invades my mouth, tasting, teasing, leaving me aching for more.

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