I curl a hand around her neck, and she looks up at me, her eyes lit with want as she knows what’s coming. I’m suddenly nervous.
I’m never nervous with women.
I can’t explain it, but this heated feeling in my stomach is unfamiliar as I get ready to kiss her. I force it away, but as our mouths inch closer together, the feeling intensifies.
I lower my mouth to hers, and once our lips collide, I’m no longer standing on the Santa Monica Pier, but I’m in a world that only holds Lexi and me.
She’s sweet like cherries, and as my lips touch hers, she grabs me around my biceps, like she needs to hold on or she might fall over. I push at the seam of her lips with my tongue, and those luscious cherries part. Her mouth is sweet and warm as I kiss her on the pier like I’ve never kissed another woman before.
She brings out all these new feelings in me I’ve never felt. She’s such a walking contradiction—innocent and sinful, adorable and sexy as fuck, sweet and tempting. She challenges me in a way women usually don’t.
And, lest we forget, she also rejected me in a way women usually don’t.
My chest heaves with exertion as I deepen our kiss to a level that’s nearly inappropriate for people walking by to witness. I can’t help it, though. I’ve wanted to taste those lips since the moment I first saw them, and now that I’m getting the chance, I don’t want to let go. The way she kisses me back tells me she feels the same way. She’s with me beat for beat, and I tangle my hands in her hair as I give into the lust that’s been brewing between us since last night.
What I feel for her is more than lust, though. I haven’t figured out what it is yet, and I have to admit...I’m a little terrified to define it.
Her grip around my biceps tightens, and I’m about to slam my hips against hers so she can feel how hard she’s making me when she gently pushes my arms away. She pulls back, her lips a little puffy and her eyes a little dazed.
She draws in a shaky breath, and then she turns and grips the pier’s railing. “Dang,” she mutters.
I draw in my own shaky breath.
I’ve kissed a lot of women in my day.
A lot.
But never one like that before.
I want to kiss her again.
I will kiss her again. Maybe naked.
She looks over at me, her eyes full of lust.
Definitely naked.
We walk hand-in-hand along the pier. We stop in little shops. We ride the Ferris wheel and walk on the beach and talk about our lives as the waves lick our feet.
We get to know one another on a different level even though I’m keeping up the ruse that I’m in sales. I wish I could tell her about bass guitar and Sin City Crue and the chance to play with MFB.
I want to tell her all my secrets.
I learn that she’s an only child, she has one living grandparent, she’s close with her mom and dad, she hates tuna and cinnamon, she’s allergic to shellfish, she thinks butterflies are weird, she loves cats, she listens to all types of music but loves country, she wants to get out of Nashville, and she enjoys singing as a hobby.
I tell her about my own childhood, a story that makes her emotional as I tell her about the mom who passed when I was so young and the father I never knew. I tell her about the music I like, about my part-time job as a card dealer in Vegas, and that I sell business solutions—something one of my cousins actually does, so I’m able to lie my way through the questions she asks about that.
By the time we’re sitting at dinner by large windows as we watch the sun sink into the water, she feels like my girlfriend.
“I like you a lot, Lex,” I murmur as we wait for our Mexican dishes to be delivered.
“I like you, too.” Her mouth lifts in a half smile. “It’s so easy to be myself with you.”
“I never talk about my parents. I’ve just...never gotten close enough to feel comfortable talking about it,” I say, my eyes out the window.
“Do you think you hide behind the tough guy act because you don’t want people to see the real you? Everything inside you, including your abandonment issues?” she asks softly.
I stare across the table at her in wonder.
Holy shit.
That’s exactly it...the end-stamp on this makes me feel more comfortable letting her see things I don’t usually let other women see. The fact that I won’t see her again allows me to be vulnerable instead of hiding behind a mask when the truth is that I have major abandonment issues.
Issues I never realized I had until this very moment, when a woman I’ve known less than twenty-four hours just pointed it out to me.
First my dad.
Then my mom.
There’s a good reason why I don’t get attached to people.
It’s easy to say it’s because I don’t want to stay in Vegas or it’s because I have things on the horizon that make this bad timing.
But deep down, after all this time, I finally realize the truth.
Because of her.
And just like my parents...she’ll be leaving me, too.
CHAPTER 15: LEXI
When we get back to the hotel, it’s a little before ten.
“You, uh, ready to call it a night?” he hedges as we make our way toward the elevators.
My eyes edge over toward his.
No.
I’m not ready to call it a night.
Wow, this is sure different from last night when he asked me if we could spend the day together and I said no.
I’m nervous.
Butterflies battle in my stomach. His invitation to his hotel room could mean a lot for the two of us, and I may be biting off far more than I can chew.
I clear my throat, and just as I open my mouth to answer, the elevator doors open. A crowd of rowdy young men exit, drinks in all their hands and voices turned to full volume.
“Bachelor party,” Gage mutters.
I glance over at him. “How do you know?”
He shrugs as we step onto the elevator and he presses the button for our floor. “I see them all the time in Vegas. They’re the right age, they’re all drunk, two had cigars, and they’re acting like they own the world. Typical. And I bet they’re off to a strip club.”
I raise a brow. “Have you ever been to one?”
“A bachelor party? Sure. Of course.”
I roll my eyes. “You know what I meant.”
“Yeah, I’ve been to a few. You?”
I feel his eyes on me. “Just once,” I admit, and I probably wouldn’t be admitting to it if I hadn’t had two margaritas at dinner. “In college. It was for our senior walk, and we were all pretty drunk, and somehow I thought it would be a good idea to get on the stage and flash my boobs.”
His brows raise in approval as he nods. “Wish I could’ve been there,” he murmurs, and my body heats at his words. “And, since you were my head shrink at dinner, let me be the first to assess that your one night at a strip club is probably the reason you don’t drink much today.”
“Ah, young prodigy,” I say, nodding sagely. “Very intuitive of you.”
He laughs, and the doors open.
It’s decision time.
We walk down the hall casually, but each step closer to our neighboring rooms pulses another beat of indecision through me.
And then we’re standing outside his door. I move to go toward mine, but his hand on my forearm stops me. It’s gentle, and it’s warm.