Page 114 of Cherry Beats

You idiot!

What have you just done?

But no words came, and I swallowed, feeling like I could barely breathe.

“Come on, Pres, it’s time to get back out there,” someone yelled over his shoulder at the same time they slapped him on the back. But Presley was unmoving, unwavering, his hold on me never loosening.

“Tess?” he breathed.

“Yeah?” I croaked.

“You love me?”

I swallowed again and nodded once. “I love you,” I admitted softly, not knowing what else to say.

His face fell, and he paled, his eyes falling to my mouth and staying there.

“Repeat what you just said,” he demanded.

“I love you.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’re asking me if I’m sure if I love you?”

“Yeah. I am.”

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head. “You’re killing me here.”

“Just one more time, please,” he said, as a sexy smile crept into place. “One more time.”

“I love you, okay?”

“Thank fuck,” he sighed heavily and placed a hard kiss to my lips, his warm tongue stealing my breath and any coherent thought I had before he began speaking against my mouth, “I thought I was going fucking crazy over here, needing you like I need you. Being this hooked on another soul.”

It killed me, but I pulled away, needing to see him, needing to take a breath before my legs gave in.

“You’re okay with that?” I asked, bringing his hands down between us and holding them tight.

He laughed softly. “Fuck, yeah, I’m okay with that.”

Then say you love me, too.

I waited for him to say more, but when he looked over his shoulder and back out onto the stage, I knew it wasn’t going to happen. Even though I shouldn’t have let it bother me, a small part of my heart broke off at the realisation that I could be two steps ahead of him here. Maybe even ten. That left me vulnerable.

I wasn’t comfortable with being vulnerable.

I took a step back and let go of his hands. “Get back out there already. They want you.”

He looked back at me, then back out at the stage, repeating the movement several times before he eventually locked eyes on mine.

“Go,” I mouthed.

He turned to leave, and I was about to put my head into my hands in embarrassment when my world was tipped upside down all of a sudden. Presley had turned back, picked me up, and thrown me over his shoulder. Before I could say a damn word to stop him, he marched back out onto that stage with my body draped over his—the bright, burning stage lights an inferno on my skin.

“Presley!” I squealed, hitting his back, my eyes scrunched tight against the light.

He ignored me, continuing with confidence. The crowd roared to life, the whispers and confused words too loud for me to miss.

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