“Fine, it wasn’t awful.” Her lids lower and she gets abruptly bashful. “I actually enjoyed it more than I let on.”
Yes! I knew it hadn’t been terrible!
Containing my excitement, I use a single finger to lift her chin up. “Look at me, Genny.” Her eyes flutter up to meet mine. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“Because I didn’t want to like you.”
My mouth gets dry. My pulse picks up. My chest tightens, as though my ribs are trying to close the gaps in my skeleton, desperately trying to protect anything from getting inside. She’s told me this before, but this time it really sinks beneath my skin and into my blood. Into my bones.
“And you really do like me?” Somehow my words come out steady, despite how shaken I feel inside.
“What do you think?” She glances down at my lips, and I take the cue, moving in to kiss her. Her mouth molds easily to mine, even when I get brutal—which I do. I wrap one hand around her neck, my thumb lightly pressing against her windpipe—not enough to hurt her, but enough so she’s aware.
It arouses her. I can tell by the nature of her kiss, how it gets hungrier. Wanton and wild, mirroring everything I’m giving her.
Soon I’m hard and eager to press into her, but at the same time, I’m not ready to move on from this kiss. From this moment. From this out-of-breath, on-the-edge-of-a-precipice, scared-out-of-my-mind feeling scratching inside of me.
I pull away to look at her.
“I like this.” Her eyes are heavy and dark. “I like that I’m the only one you’ve been like this with.”
“I like that you’re the only one who brings it out in me.” I love it, actually.
And that’s when I know.
Goddammit all to hell.
I’m in love with her, aren’t I? That feeling in my chest, that desire to help her out with her job, my fear of her leaving—this is the explanation. This is the emotion I’m hiding. I’ve tried so hard to ignore it, but I’m fucking head-over-heels in love with her.
I’m pretty sure I should have seen this coming.
Then why do I feel like I’ve been run over by someone else as they’re stealing my Bugatti?
“Is this fast?” she whispers, and now I know she’s feeling something too.
“Don’t think about it,” I whisper back, praying that the dark and the thinness of our voices can keep the words from holding weight. From anchoring in and changing everything.
“This is fast,” she says again on the softest of breaths.
Neither of us moves, both of us completely encapsulated in this single moment, frightened and thrilled all at once. Like a roller coaster. Like speeding down an empty highway. “Fast things aren’t bad things.”
“But they’re often over too quickly.”
“Or they’re not. The thing is sometimes you don’t know how long a stretch of highway is going to be until you get to the end. All you can do is buckle up and enjoy the ride.” Funny how I sound more confident than I feel.
“Pretty sure I’ve already been buckled up with you, and yes, I enjoyed the ride.”
I grin, grateful that she’s lightened the tension. “Pretty sure I’ll be riding you again real soon.”
She licks her lips and nods once, and I’m pretty sure she’s talking about more than the next round when she says, bravely, “All right. I’m ready.”
All right then, I’m ready too.
14
I wake up to a soft nudge and the whisper of my name.
“Hmm?” My arm is wrapped around Genny’s waist, and even though I’m awake enough to take victory that I did indeed hold her all night, I’m not ready to open my eyes.
“Chandler.” She reaches around to poke my shoulder.
“What is it?” I say on a yawn, but by then, my eyes are open, and I can see exactly the reason Genevieve had woken me up. “Uh, hi, Mina.”
The three-year-old stands at the edge of the bed and bats her brown eyes at me.
“Guess I need to learn to lock the door,” I mumble in Genny’s ear, glad that the sheets are pulled up around our naked bodies. “Well, hello there, ninja-child.”
Mina blinks. “What’s a ninja?”
“Someone who’s good at sneaking up on people. Like you.” I’m already preparing for the lecture that Hudson is sure to give me later. But seriously? Kid needs to learn some rules about privacy.
Mina smiles, accepting my words as a compliment. “I didn’t even try to sneak on you. I’m a reawy good ninja, aren’t I?”
“Really good. Whatcha doing in here, anyway, kid?”
“Gramma Sophie said you were ‘spending the day in bed’.” Not an unattractive idea. “Are you sick, Uncle Chandler?”
Genny stifles a laugh as I glance at the clock on the wall. Jesus, Mom, it’s only nine-thirty.
“Nope. Not sick. Just sleeping in.” I sit up, careful not to reveal anything too, uh, traumatizing. For me. Not her, necessarily.
Apparently, I wasn’t cautious enough because next thing I know, she’s tilting her head and asking, “Uncle Chandler, are you naked?” She’s an observant little ninja, my niece is. “My mommy says that people sleep together naked when they love each other.”
“Um.” Awkward. Because, yes, I do love Genny. But this isn’t quite how I want to say it for the first time. And I certainly don’t want her to feel pressured to say it back.
Then Genny floors me when she says, “That’s right.”