How to Ruin a Wedding(79)

“Give me this month to be with you,” he says. “Let me take you on real dates, treat this like a real relationship. Give me a real chance, and we’ll see if it’s worth continuing. That’s reasonable, right?”

“No,” I say, finding another straw. “Anders, we live entirely different lives. You’re established, well off, so incredibly put together, and I’m basically a homeless, broke mess of a woman. Why in the world would you want to date me?”

“I can think of several reasons.”

When I roll my eyes, he grips my chin to face him. “You make me laugh in a single conversation more than I’ve laughed in months. And when you make someone else laugh, you smile like hearing them feel joy is a reward.” My heart pounds. “Every time you see something you think your sister will like or find amusing, you take a photo and send it to her. Because you like making people feel like they matter in your world, even when you’re apart.” My palms grow hot and sweaty. “And maybe I haven’t seen all of it, but I know enough to see how you’ve built the beginning of your life around helping your sister. And you don’t complain, because the love in your heart is this endless gift that can move past any unfairness that it comes across.” My breathing comes rapidly. “You don’t have enough money to pay for a round of shots, but you went out of your way to get me a gift just because you thought it’d make me laugh for a brief moment, because tiny instants like that feel like big ones to you. And you appreciate even the smallest of things, and make them feel big. You’re always looking to help, but there’s more to you than that. I think it’s just where you’ve learned to put all your love, so you don’t have to risk handing any of it to someone who might not hold it carefully.”

“Anders,” I whisper, my heart stuttering, butterflies fluttering in the pit of my stomach.

“Say yes,” Anders pleads with me, “and I’ll keep giving you reasons to believe me. Let me hold some of your love. We can figure out the rest as it comes. I’ll figure it out for you. Just say yes.”

Never in my life have I ever had a man confess to me this way. His words feel like they’re bandaging tiny paper cuts in my heart, small wounds I thought healed long ago. And not a single thing he said had to do with how I look, yet I’ve never felt so seen in my life.

Anders is a genuinely good man, and for some reason is interested in me.

Every part of me wants to say yes. How could I not? He isn’t wrong; we could try—we could see if whatever’s between us can be great. Cross the messy bridge when we get to it. When will I ever meet a man like Anders?

Never, because there is no other man like Anders.

I suck in a breath and give him my answer.





25.


We trip over each other from the car to the front door, our mouths at a more desperate pace to reach each other, faster than our legs can carry us inside. Anders slams the door shut, and I kick my heels off, the ache of wearing them for too long making me flinch and buckle.

“You okay?” Anders pauses mid-kiss.

“Yeah,” I say, “just my feet.”

In answer, he grabs my ass with both hands and lifts me in a swift move.

Instinctively, I wrap my legs around him, grinding my body closer to his. My dress hikes up, and his fingers dig into my skin, bare from the thong I wore to prevent any lines.

“Jesus, Lucinda,” he says, feeling all the exposed skin there, his mouth traveling down to my neck.

There’s a small clattering approaching us. I turn my gaze, and my heart nearly bursts from its chest.

Sora turns the corner, head tilted as he inspects us.

“You got Sora?” I say, my voice thick with sudden emotion.

“It’s why I was busy,” he explains. “Dainese was helping me with the adoption papers.”

I love you. I love you. I’m pretty sure I’m hopelessly in love with you.

The words are stuck in my throat, so I move to get off Anders and greet Sora.

He tightens his grip on me. “Please, Lucinda, give him a wave, but I need you now.”

“Then take me now.”

He carries me swiftly to his room, shutting the door with his foot.

Ribbons of light from the moon glow over us as he slowly takes me to the edge of his bed, dropping me softly.

I grip his neck, try to pull him to my mouth.

Anders pulls away, his hands on my thighs as he goes on his knees. His mouth presses against my inner thigh, his fingers gliding up it, slowly, up and up as he brings his tongue to follow before he reaches the curve of me.

He looks up at me through thick lashes, a desperate, devoted heat burning in his gaze. “I have wanted to taste you from the moment I met you.”

Before I can think of a response, he presses a kiss over my panties. He starts from the bottom, skips the middle, and comes down from the top, and ends up below where I need him again.

When I shift, try to maneuver so he presses where I need him most, he chuckles.

“So impatient,” he says softly into my skin, before pressing a kiss at my center.

The pressure of it has heat branching off into every other part of me. He digs his finger under the fabric, yanks it to the side while sucking my clit into his mouth in a swift, hard pull.

Stars burst throughout my vision.

My head tilts back, my body arches into his mouth. He presses his thumb against my skin, pressing down so that my clit is entirely exposed as he licks and sucks the very tip of it.