Page 43 of That Friendzone Feeling

13

EMILY

Walker’sbody heat takes some of the edge of the chill from my wet clothes.

Butnothing can stop his gut-wrenching words playing on a loop in my head.Ialmost killed you the wayIkilled my parents.

Couldthere be a bigger burden than feeling responsible for your parents’ death?Yethe’s never mentioned a word of it until tonight—until he thought he might lose me too.

Ireach up and cup his smooth chin.I’mnow so used to it that it’s almost like the bearded guy never existed.

“Pleasedon’t think what happened to your mom and dad was your fault.Please.”

Hecloses his eyes and rests his forehead against mine but says nothing.

Itrace a line across his cheekbone, down and around his jaw. “Tomhas told you you’re being silly, right?”

Hesqueezes his eyes tighter shut. “Tomdoesn’t know,” he whispers. “I’venever told him.I’venever told anyone.”

Itmust be possible for a heart to break in two, because it’s the only explanation for this pain in my chest.

Islide my cheek against his. “You’vecarried this all by yourself for all this time?Morethan twenty years?”

Hishead nods against mine.

Iease back, take his face in my hands again, and look him right in his glossy eyes. “Ican’t bear the thought of you tearing yourself up about this all alone.ThankGodyou told me.Thankyou for trusting me.”Icircle my arms around his neck. “I’vealways been here for you.”Irest my lips against his ear. “AndI’mhere now.”

Hepulls me tight to him, andIhold on with all my strength and all my heart.

“Iknow.”Hisbreath is warm against my neck and sends a wave of goosebumps down my side. “Thankyou.”

Hedrags his lips up toward my ear and across my cheek.Mybody’s now more fire than ice—burning, yearning for him.

Iloosen my grip to search for his mouth.Hetakes my lower lip between his, and my heart surges.

“Isthat a thank-you kiss?”Iask as clearly asIcan with him holding onto my lip.

“Maybe,” he says against my mouth. “Butalso,Ireally want to kiss you.”

Tenyears of looking at these lips andIhad no idea they would be so soft or taste so sweet.

NordidIhave any ideaIwould ever be so desperate for him.Desperateto touch him, desperate to taste him, desperate to inhale the deliciousness of his skin.

Howhas this happened?Ina moment my feelings have shifted, from the care of a best friend to the desire for the man whose lips are making my heart and belly ripple with a flutter that sparks an instant heat between my legs.

Walkerruns his tongue along my lip, turning the flutter into a full body tingle that radiates to every nerve ending.Imelt into him, opening my mouth to welcome him in.Asour tongues meet, he releases his hold on the front of my jacket—well,hisjacket—wraps his arms around my waist, and draws me closer.

Ipush my fingers through his soaking-wet hair, gripping as tight asIcan, as if by holding his hairI’mholding on to every part of him.Asmy chest presses against his, he pulls a tiny bit away from my mouth and shudders.

Hisbreath tickles my cheek.

“Areyou okay?”Iask, releasing a handful of hair and stroking his face.

“Yes.Ourclothes are just so wet.”

Hesmiles as he unsticks his shirt from his chest.It’sa chestInow want to kiss more thanI’veever wanted to kiss any part of any man.Thedesire to kiss every part of him, to connect with him in a way we’ve never connected before, is overwhelming.

Ireach for the top button. “There’sa way to fix that.”