Page 20 of The Storm Boys Series Collection

“Are you even talking about dating again? Or just friends?”

“I don’t know,” he said, more desperate this time. “What I want is you. What we had. Boyfriends, lovers, living together. I would kill for that. But I’ll take whatever I can get. And that sounds pitiful, I know, but you know what? That’s where I’m at. I needed to tell you that I’m sorry, and to beg and grovel if I had to.”

Letting go of his hand, I brushed a strand of hair off his forehead. “You don’t need to beg. I’m glad you’re here. I meant it when I said that. I’m sorry for how things ended with us too. We were just young and pigheaded, and too proud to admit what we needed. But we’re older now. I’d like to think we know better.”

He nodded quickly, but there was a hint of fear and uncertainty in his eyes. “I don’t know how to make it work, like you said. Logistically, I have no clue. I didn’t come here with a plan. To be honest, I was expecting you to laugh at me and tell me to fuck off.”

I nudged my shoulder to his and chuckled. “I was just glad it was you and not some other Derek Grimes on my guest manifest. I wanted it to be you.”

His eyes searched mine, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“And you’re willing to figure it out? For real?”

“I am.”

His smile was breathtaking.

“But,” I cautioned, “things will be different this time. They have to be.”

He nodded. “I know.”

Then he looked at my mouth, and he licked his lips.

I laughed and stood up. “Uh, yeah.” I walked to the door and let out a loud breath. “I think I mentioned taking things slow a few times, and you looking at me like that doesn’t help.”

With his hands on his knees he stood up slowly, a smirk on his lips. “Looking at you how?”

“You know damn well.” I opened the door for him. “Goodnight, Derek.”

He pouted, but it was playful and shy. He walked to the door, standing closer to me than he had to. “Goodnight,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

I grabbed his arm, stopping him from leaving. I pulled him closer, our bodies pressing together. I looked at his lips, at his beautiful, smirking lips, then at his eyes. They were dark and swirling with familiar heat and pleading.

And all the permission I needed.

I slid my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. It was hard stubble and soft lips, open and teasing, but no tongue, no tasting.

He grunted, and when I pulled back and put some distance between us, he whined.

“See you in the morning,” I said, my voice betraying me.

He put his hand to my chest. Surely he could feel my heart thumping against my sternum, and from his smile, maybe he did. “Thank you, Paul.”

* * *

The next morning,I was running a little later than I’d have liked. I’d barely slept. My mind kept replaying the kiss, his eyes, his smile.

It was a physical and emotional effort to have him leave my cabin last night. But it had been the right thing to do.

As much as my body disagreed, my heart and my brain were in charge this time.

Breakfast was a bit rushed, not that Marit or Kari noticed, and Norah didn’t seem to, either. But Derek slipped into the communal kitchen and came to the sink, shoving his hands into the water and bumping me out of the way. “I’ll finish washing up,” he said. “You seem a bit frazzled this morning.”

I would have growled at him if he wasn’t right. In fact, I appreciated his help. “I was a bit slow out of bed this morning,” I admitted. “Didn’t sleep too well.”

His gaze shot to mine. “Oh? In a good or bad way? Not like a having-second-thoughts lack of sleep.”

“No.” I ignored the heat in my cheeks. “More of a couldn’t-get-someone-off-my-mind kind.”

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