“All right,” he finally says as he loops his pinkie with mine. “I pinkie swear I won’t go look for the places and will just talk to the police about it.”
I suck back my tears. “Good.”
A moment or two drifts by before we pull away. Another handful of seconds tick by before anyone says anything.
“Can I kiss you and make it better?” He chews on his bottom lip, mulling something over. “I don’t like seeing you cry, especially when I’m the one who caused it.”
I dry my tears from my cheeks then nod, and he seals his lips to mine, giving me the softest kiss.
The longer we kiss under the stars, the more I feel at peace. It doesn’t matter if he didn’t say I love you back. I wasn’t expecting him to. I just needed to let him know how much I care about him, and I think I did exactly that.
Besides, deep down, in his own way, I think he might love me. I can tell through his little touches, kisses, smiles, and how he agreed to do something tonight that he didn’t really want to do, but felt he needed to because he didn’t want to see me hurt.
Words are just words
That pass across lips.
Actions show more
Than words ever can understand.
Ayden’s actions are beautiful,
And tell me all I need to know,
Feed my soul and give me hope.
“What can I do to make tonight up to you?” he asks when we finally come up for air.
“You don’t need to make anything up to me.” I hitch my arms around him. “We had our first fight. So what? It was bound to happen sometime.”
“Okay, then what should we do to celebrate”—he glances at the hot tub—“because I think sitting in the hot tub is off the table.”
I thrum my finger against my lip. “I have an idea.”
He eyes me over with suspicion. “You have that look in your eye.”
“What look?” I bat my eyelashes innocently.
He gives me a blank stare. “The look that means you’re about to get us into trouble.”
“I promise we won’t get in trouble. You might not be too thrilled about it, though.”
Before he can press for more details, I snatch ahold of his hand and drag him toward his house.
As we’re rounding the fence, I notice a maroon SUV parked in front of his house.
“So, that’s the infamous detective?” I smile at the car and give a little wave.
“You’re such a weirdo,” he jokes then steers me toward the backdoor of his house.
The alarm goes off when we enter, and he hurries through the darkness to turn it off. I flip on the lights and bend down to untie my boots.
I feel him move up behind me before I actually see him.
“Hey.” I stand upright, my back aligning with his chest.
As he circles his arms around my waist, the air feels electric, sharp zaps biting at my skin.
He rests his chin on my shoulder. “So, what did you want to do?”
“I was thinking we could work on that song we’ve been writing . . . and you could sing it for me.”
“I knew you were up to something, but I already told you I can’t sing.”
“I’ll be the one to decide that.” I start to turn around to head for the kitchen, but he tightens his hold on me.
“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” There’s a playfulness to his voice that’s got me really curious where he’s going with this.
“Yeah, you kind of owe me.” It’s a lie. He doesn’t owe me anything, but I really want to hear him sing.
“Oh, yeah?” His lips dip toward my neck. “How do you figure?”
“Because you . . .” My eyes roll back, and my knees almost buckle as he sucks on the side of my neck.
The harder he sucks, the more difficult it becomes to keep my legs under me. Fortunately, he has his arms around me and keeps me from toppling to the ground.
“You sure you still want to hear me sing?” His warm breath falters against my neck. “Because I could . . . I could keep doing this.”
After I regain my breath, I glare at him from over my shoulder. “Don’t try to play me like a sucker. I know you’re trying to distract me, and it’s not going to work.” I slip out from under his arms and grab his hand. “Now, get your ass upstairs and sing for me so I can see if I’m ever going to be able to live out my dream of doing a duet with you.” I haul him toward the kitchen, giving a playful glance over my shoulder. “And, when we’re done, you can suck on my neck some more as punishment for trying to play me.”
“I’m all for the sucking on the neck part, but don’t say I didn’t warn you about the singing thing.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
Even though I have no clue what his singing voice sounds like, the dreamer side of me believes it’s going to be low and smooth, like honey, and absolutely, one hundred percent dripping with sexiness. He may not agree with me, but he has zero confidence and doesn’t believe anything about him is good.
When we enter his room, I release his hand and cross my arms, refusing to let him off the hook, even when he gives me his sad, puppy dog eyes.
“All right, Shy Boy, show me what you’ve got.”
Chapter 12
Ayden
I love you. She said she loves me.
Love. Love. Love.
At first, I thought she was kidding.
I could see on her face that she wasn’t, though. I thought about talking her out of it, telling her she really doesn’t love me—couldn’t—but the longer I stared at her, the more I could see how truthful she was being. There was no way I was going to be able to talk her out of it.
It was that look that made me pinkie swear that I wouldn’t go looking for those places. I will keep my word, too, no matter how bad things get, because she’s Lyric and I . . .
I, what exactly?
I think deep down I know just how much I care about her.
Enough that I would give up almost anything.
Lyric watches me as I situate on the bed with my guitar on my lap. Her eyes are lit up with anticipation that my voice is going to sound amazing, and I feel bad that, in a moment, I’m going to let her down.
“Are you sure you want me to do this?” I ask, lining my fingers along the strings. “Because, once I sing, there’s no going back. That dream of yours will forever be crushed.”