Page 61 of A Love Song for Dreamers

I turn us so it’s her back against the door, my hips colliding with hers. She doesn’t resist, doesn’t do anything but angle her face up tomine.

“Listen to me.” I plant my hand on the wall next to her head instead of threading it into her hair like I want to. “If this is about blowing off steam, about you being pissed at your ex or the world, I can be your friend. But I won’t fuck youtonight.”

Confusion clouds her expression. “But yousaid—”

“I know what I said,” I interrupt. My breath is too shallow for the words I need to say, but I say them anyway. “It’s not enough to know you’re not his, Annie. I need to know you’remine.”

The words settle betweenus.

She weighs them as if each is worthy of its ownassessment.

It’s what I wanted, for her to take me seriously, but Annie thinks on those words for so fucking long it’s going to breakme.

“Tyler…”

Her arms wind around my neck, and she holds me tighter, hugging me with every ounce of strength in her. I breathe her in, but every part of me knows she’s going to say something I don’t want tohear.

“You’re right. I did find myself in New York. I’ve learned how to be tough. How to take care of myself and go after my dreams. I wouldn’t have become that person without everything that happened, and a lot of it is thanks toyou.

“I’m not sure I can give my heart to you the way you’re asking. But,” she continues before I can pull away, “I loved the boy you were then. I love the man you arenow.”

I understand everything she’s saying. It’s more than I had a right to hopefor.

I have her as much as anyonecan.

“I tried to cut you out, Annie. I wanted to forget you but I couldn’t. You’re so deep inside me I can’t get you out. I never touched another woman on tour. When you’re close, there’s no air. But when you’re gone... I don’t care if I breatheagain.”

Her gaze searches mine as if she’s trying to figure a way through thismoment.

In my life, I’ve started taking the things I want, stopped making apologies for it. Now… I wait. For the first time in two fucking years, Iwait.

Her hands slide down my chest and rest there. She inches forward, closing the distance betweenus.

She’s close enough I can taste her slow exhale, smell hershampoo.

Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and I want to do it forher.

I haven’t kissed her in two years, and I know it’s because she’s been holdingback.

The moment she decides, my heartstops.

When Annie’s lips brush mine, it’s honest and vulnerable. It’s a plea. It’s a promise. It’s all the words and all the actions ever invented rolled into the subtle slide of her skin onmine.

She shifts up on her toes to worship my mouth. My hands slide down to hold her waist, lightly, chastely, while she paints possibilities with hertongue.

It’s sweet. It’s hot. The soft moan that escapes her turns me on like crazy. I want to bury my face in her neck, inhale her floral scent, lose myself in all sheis.

It’s so fucking good, but it hurts, too. She’s inside me, everywhere, and half of me wants to push her out while the other half wants to open up, to let herin.

The second she threads her fingers in my hair, tugging greedily for more access, my controlsnaps.

She can’t promise me all of her forever, but I’ll take all of hertonight.

I press her up against the door, and with everything in me, I kiss herback.

Under the dress, she’s slow curves that yield under the growing evidence of how much I want her. Annie’s lips part, her breath coming in shortgasps.

I reach for the keys in her hand and take them from her, fumbling to get the door open. We trip inside, her heels clicking on the wood floor. I turn her, press her back against the wall as the door closes behindus.

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