LEXI

One drink led to two more, a few hours more of dancing, and so much laughter my stomach aches. I’d given up trying to tempt him into leaving because it had not worked at all.

Also, I’d been having too much fun to leave. No matter how much I look forward to later, I refuse to rush the present.

The present, as it turns out, is a wonderful place to be. Especially now that we’re locking up the restaurant and stumbling down the front steps.

“It’s the shoes,” I say, kicking off my heels. “Not the wine.”

“We’ve had three glasses over what... eight hours? I hope it’s not the wine.”

Bradley extends an arm to me, but I forego it and jump onto his back. My shoes dangle from my hand and my arms wrap around his neck.

“Just like old times,” I murmur against his ear. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Hamilton.”

We giggle and traipse the short distance toward home, taking our time to admire the freshly blooming lilacs, the bright stars shining down at us. The sun will be here soon, and for once, I want dawn to stay away.

Somewhere in the stars, I’ve discovered that I’m in love. And I don’t want it to ever go away.

When we reach our block, he sets me down and runs an arm over my shoulder. “Lexi.”

“Hmm?”

“Earlier tonight, you mentioned you wanted to have a family. A husband, a house, all of that.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t trying to pressure you into—”

“Do you see me in that picture?”

“Sorry?”

“The husband, the dad, the partner in crime. Can you see me in that role?”

“I haven’t...”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“Yes,” I tell him, and it’s a burst of truth that I can’t seem to stop. “Okay? Yes. I’ve thought about it, and I’ve always had a tiny bubble inside of me that wanted us to end up together, but I never thought it would happen. So I tucked it away, deep inside, and did my best not to think about it.”

“But it’s still there?”

“Yes,” I tell him, and my voice is a little choked up. “You brought it back, you jerk. I tried for years to not think about it, and now it’s back.”

“Stop fighting it.”

“How? Why? What if you decide I’m not the one for you?”

“Dammit, Lexi, have I not made myself clear? If you wanted to get married tomorrow, I’d marry you. I know what I want, I always have. It’s very clear to me. I’ve been waiting for you to decide.”

“For me?”

“For you. I know it’s not reasonable to ask you to marry me now, but I don’t think it was too soon for me to tell you say I’m in love with you. This isn’t our first date, Lexi Monroe. Every moment we’ve spent together has been leading to this moment.”

“But we only kissed for the first time, like, two months ago.”

“And our chemistry is not the issue,” he says, raising a hand in frustration. “You have me on the verge of exploding anytime you’re in the room. It’s not just about sex, it’s about everything else.”

“I know that.”

“And I’ve gotten to know all the other stuff. I know you buy bulk Oreos when you’re stressed, and instead of dealing with a problem you’ll run to Costco to procrastinate and hunt samples.”

“I don’t do that as much...anymore.”

“You did last week.”

“I’m allowed once a month.”

“I know that you love your parents, but you’re okay to see them on holidays, birthdays, and a few other occasions. Too much, and your mother tries to treat you like her little girl again.”

“I’ll give you that one.”

“I know you’re impossibly close with your brother, and he’ll rip my balls off if I do anything to hurt you.”

Another smile. “Fine, but those are obvious things.”

“I know that when you said my name on that couch earlier tonight, it was the sexiest thing in this world,” he says, his eyes darkening. “And I know that when I’m finally inside you, everything will be right in my life.”

My stomach is on fire. Every tendril of me is burning for him, and I realize that he’s right. He knows me...inside and out. Intimately. Publicly. When I’m stressed and tired and angry and sad. He’s been there for it all, and this is us, picking up right where we left off.

“Come on,” I say, taking his hand. “Let’s go inside.”

We make it through the front doors, the tension crackling around us, electric currents sizzling through the air. We’re barely touching, but that’s the sexiest part of it all.

Bradley punches the elevator button with enough force to jam a lesser man’s finger, and I can see that he’s ready. I gulp for oxygen. This moment has been so long in coming. What if I am horrible? What if I choke? What if...

“Stop thinking so much,” he growls, pulling me into the elevator. “Yes, I even know the way your brain works.”

The doors ding shut, and we begin our ascent. “Okay, then,” I tell him, a bit of pink in my cheeks as I fight back the embarrassment. There’ll be no hiding anything from him; I can see that right now. “If you’re so smart, tell me what I’m thinking.”

Bradley’s eyes flash to me, quick for a second, and then stall. Linger there. He looks puzzled, as if he’s not quite sure what’s on my mind, and I can tell he doesn’t like it.

“You never answered my question,” he says, changing the subject, his voice nearly hoarse. “Do you see me in your life?”

“I answered your question. I said yes.”

“Fine. But do you want me there?”

“Yes, dammit!” I explode. “I’ve always loved you, Brad. I want you in my life. I want you to kiss me senseless, and then take me to bed and finish what you started. And then I want you to cook me breakfast in the morning.”

“And the morning after, and the morning after?” He steps close, backing me against the elevator wall. “And then marry you, and sweep you away on our honeymoon, and then make babies together?”

I’m a melted puddle of goo at this because it is what I want, and I’ve never gotten the courage to tell him, or to tell anyone for that matter. I’m not even sure I knew myself, but now that it’s clear—it’s crystal clear.

I can’t manage to speak, so I nod.

Then the doors slide open to reveal an empty hallway. I step out first, but apparently, I’m not moving fast enough because Bradley scoops me into his arms and marches me to his apartment.

He unlocks the door, kicks it open, and slams it behind him. We continue straight on through to the bedroom where I’ve laid many times before as a buddy, a friend.

When Bradley lays me on the bed, there’s nothing platonic about his expression; it’s every bit primal. “I need to have you,” he murmurs. “But I’m going to make sure this is slow and perfect for you. The first time.”

“You already made things perfect for me,” I murmur, letting out a gasp as his hand touches my thigh, slides my dress high. “Why wait? We can go slow the next time.”

“I’m going to leave your dress on,” he says. “For now. If I see you naked, my patience will vanish.”

“Whatever you need.” My head rests on the pillows, his bed soft as clouds. I’m in heaven, now, I’m sure of it. This is bliss. “But take off your shirt.”

“You’re fine to go again?” he asks, unbuttoning it slowly.

“It’s been five hours! I’ve been ready for four hours and fifty-eight minutes.”

“Well, then, let’s not wait a second longer, shall we?”

My eyes clench shut as he begins to touch, to stroke, to caress. Already, it’s almost familiar how he moves, how he kisses, how he gives and takes, pushes and pulls.

He always gives more than he takes, always slows when things burn too bright. When his finger dips inside me, I can’t hold back a sharp breath. It’s true, what he says—he knows me so well, every inch of me. Knows how to move, what to say, how to touch, and it drives me into a state of panicked frenzy that’s more intense than anything I’ve experienced in this world.

“Bradley,” I say, my voice ragged. “Please, stop.”

“Stop?” He gives me an evil grin and withdraws, leaving me breathless and empty. At my horrified look, he shrugs. “You said stop.”

“I didn’t mean stop completely,” I cry, enraged. “You know what I mean. Let me hold you.”

Something in my voice cracks, and it must do the trick because Bradley nods. He gently, carefully runs a hand up my thigh, a few more strokes as he leans forward to kiss me.

I’m wound in knots as our lips meet, sensual and needy and utterly delicious. His hand works circles below, while his tongue takes me from above. I rise to meet him, holding onto his back as my nails dig into his skin.

If anything, it brings us closer, tighter, more intimate.

“I have waited for so long to have you,” he murmurs against my ear. “I can’t believe it’s happening.”

“Brad, listen, look.” I pull him just a hair away from me because he’s got my feelings so twisted, turned inside out and vulnerable, that I’m on the verge of tears. My skin is so sensitive to the touch the slightest whisper of wind would scorch me. “I love you. I want you, I need you, and I want this to last. Forever.”

His face crumbles, any sign of patience fading to the background. This piece of Bradley Hamilton, the rawness of his spirit, finally shows. Everything.

I’m speechless, he’s quiet, and eventually, he strips me out of my clothes, and he follows suit. Then, he reaches for a foil wrapper. I’m holding onto his shoulders, struggling for air when he nudges my entrance, poised there as we lock eyes.

He holds there, against me. I’m trembling for him, and his eyes are the darkest shade of brown. I can barely hold his arms for how badly I’m shaking, and when he presses inside, slowly, inch by inch, I close my eyes and let the sensations take over.

We share a gasp, an inhalation, the wonder of how perfect we feel together. There’s a joy and an intensity all wrapped into one, and I can’t help my eyes stinging with the anticipation of it all, finally rushing to a close.

“Sweetheart,” he says, leaning close. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not,” I say, my voice a rasp. “It’s just so perfect.”

He smiles, gentle and sweet, and pulls back. Then pushes and pulls, pushes and pulls. We fit together in a way that only two souls meant for each other can, and when he eases his body over mine, covering me completely, I let out a sigh that’s been held back for years.

“You are incredible,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’m not going to last long.”

“Despite a lifetime of training?”

He pauses, and then realizing the joke, laughs. “Despite a lifetime of training, you have ruined me.”

My hands come up, twine through his hair. “You ruined me the day I met you, Bradley Hamilton.”

Then his hands grip my hips and jerk me upward, and the incredible sensations bring a silence over both of us. I latch on with whatever strength I can muster as he drives us now, faster and faster, escalating every second like it’ll be the last.

The crest looms before us as he rocks us harder, deeper. I arch upward, out of control. My fingers tear at the sheets, claw at his back. His mouth brushes my neck, my lips, and as both of us clamor for the brink of everything, he locks his lips with mine and swallows my cries of desperate need.

We finish together, riding out the last of the waves, easing gently into a blissful calm, and it’s official. My mind has exploded.

“Sweet Jesus.” Bradley collapses onto the bed and drags me onto his chest. He nuzzles against my neck. “That was insane.”

“Incredible.”

“I knew it would be fantastic, but that...”

I stretch, basking in the comfort of his arms, curled together at last. “I’m not leaving tonight.”

“Or in the morning.”

“Oh, shit. The morning. I have to work, and the diner is a disaster—”

“Took care of it,” Bradley says. Then, with a naughty little nip on my neck, he pulls me tight against him. Somehow, he feels ready again. So soon. I’m still swimming in the aftershocks of the first time.

“You took care of it?”

“Rick is opening, and the girls are going to help him clean up,” he murmurs. “You didn’t think I’d let you get up and leave in the morning, did you?”

I blink. “Um.”

“Sweetheart, now that you’ve opened the floodgates,” he says, perching on his elbows and trailing kisses across my cheek. “The fun has just begun.”