I’m watching him.
His mouth is parted, his eyes are hooded, and his body is filled with a calm, as if this is exactly where he wants to be.
And then he looks at me.
My breath hitches because the light in his eyes is still there. Except, instead of talking about flowers or his beloved stars, he’s looking at me. I feel like he’s the sun and I’m orbiting around him. There’s no doubt that I could soak in his stare for the rest of my life.
He leans forward, and my heart picks up. “If I kiss you right now, without a camera rolling, would you mind?”
I instinctively lick my lips as I take a sharp breath in, and my words fail me.
His head dips lower until his lips are mere inches from mine. “Would you?”
“No,” I whisper back.
He places a hand on my cheek, leans forward, and kisses me. It’s soulful and sweet. Intense and delicious. I wasn’t prepared for the intensity of his kiss last time, but today, I’m ready to devour and savor every moment.
With the planets and the sun dancing on the sky above us, our tongues dance in a rhythm all of their own as our breaths become one. I feel his touch down to my core, and there’s no part of me that wants him to stop.
I slide my hand into his thick, dirty blond hair and pull him in closer. His left arm tightens around my back as he brings me into him, his tongue stroking between my lips, sending tingles straight between my legs.
He pulls away from my lips but places his forehead to mine.
“You win,” I whisper. “Your secret first-date place is pretty amazing.”
“I told you I had moves.”
“I’ll never doubt you again.”
He laughs as he puts an arm around me, pulling me into his side and staring up at the show.
“Thanks for coming with me,” he says.
I nod. “Thanks for inviting me. This is fun.”
He grins. “It sure is.”
I bite my lower lip, stopping myself from kissing him again. He smirks, and I know he can tell.
We finish the show and then bid goodnight to Kent. On the ride home, Jake plays more of that music that was on in the planetarium, and we listen as we drive along the shoreline, staring at the Windy City. Its colors of pinks, purples, and golds illuminate the darkened water, making it look absolutely stunning.
When we get home, he walks me to my door, kisses me softly on the cheek, and slowly backs up toward his place.
“Night,” I say before turning around, entering my apartment, and closing the door.
So many emotions are running through me. My heart is pounding, and I can’t control the smile on my face. I only get this exhilarated when I write. It’s a feeling of happiness I can’t control. To me, it’s better than any drug or alcohol.
That’s when the words drown me.
I race to my computer, open it up, and let it pour out. One after another, my fingers glide across the keyboard as my best writing spills onto the page.
Chapter Twelve
I burned the midnight oil and some of the morning’s as well. It felt amazing, and then I crashed—hard.
My head doesn’t want to leave the pillow, except my buzzer is going off, which means I have a visitor from the outside world.
I roll over and answer my phone, my voice groggy, “Who is it?”
“It’s your mother,” she sings into the receiver.
I punch in the number nine and listen as the buzzing sound chimes in the receiver. Knowing she must be inside by now, I push the covers off the bed and make my way over to the front door, unlocking it and leaving it ajar as I walk to the Keurig.
“You look well rested,” she states in a serious tone, which is really her humor, exaggerating the state of a situation.
I pop a pod in. “What are you doing in the city?”
“I have two grant proposals in schools nearby. I told you about this.”
I try to rack my mind to remember her saying she’d be in the city. “Sorry. I’ve been a little all over the place this week in my attempt to finish up this book. I’ve finally hit my stride, and I’m on target to finish by my deadline.”
A closed-mouth smile graces her face. “What’s this one about? Another billionaire or a handsome prince?”
I narrow my eyes at her comment and wait as my cup fills. It’s too early—well, considering it’s afternoon, it’s too late—to find a witty comeback. I need my liquid stamina first.
“Or a strapping doctor with green eyes who wants to fill the heroine’s belly with a baby?” she muses as she takes in my bookshelf and the spines of romances, including my own.
“He’s from a wealthy family,” I state, and she makes that hum of disapproval. “And an artist, so he’s pretty much a prince in my eyes.”
The cup fills to the top, and I grab it, soaking in the heat.
She sets her tote bag on the table and takes a seat. “I’ll have a cup too. Thank you for asking.”
“Sorry. That was rude of me. French roast alright?”
Mom nods as she folds her hands on the table. “I haven’t heard from you in a few days. Everything good?”
“Yes, actually. I went on a date.”
“A date?” Her expression is a mixture of delighted and horrified as I put her mug in front of her and take a seat at the table.
“Two actually. A really bad one and a really good one. Funny, I haven’t gone out in years, and I went on two dates in a week. Guess I’m making up for lost time.”
“Should I be concerned?” She raises her eyebrows over her mug with a tilt to her lips.
I smile to myself as I brush my fingers along my lips, the kiss I shared with Jake lingering on them. “Don’t worry, Mom. I still don’t believe in real life happily ever afters.”
“You make
