Star-Crossed Letters (Falling for Famous #1)(98)

“Thank you,” I say in his ear, with a soft kiss to his cheek.

His smile makes me thankful for Daisy’s wisdom.

I look down at the photo of Nanna. When I was young, it embarrassed me, because who had a naked photo of their grandmother in their house? But now, all I see is a woman living life fully. She took the biggest risk, showed the world who she was without artifice, without a mask, without adornment.

What a beautiful gift it is to see and be seen, to be accepted for who you are. And to be loved for it.

I take Chase’s hand.

When we all gather in the dining room, making room and setting plates for our new guests, the only thing I see is our friends blended, varying ages, varying wisdom, all laughing, passing food, crowding around a big table.

I’ve finally done it. I filled the vacant table, the empty house, the lonely parts of me, with love. With Chase by my side. I know that we have so much more to do, so much more to conquer, and it won’t all be easy.

We have to figure out the right balance between real life and celebrity, LA and San Francisco. We have to navigate career pressures and fame, and the regular problems that come with two people making a life together. But with Chase’s hand in mine and people who are happy to be in our corner, I’m filled with a certainty that we can make it.

It feels like hope. It feels like joy. It feels a lot like love.

He leans down and whispers into my ear, “This is taking too long. I can’t wait. On a scale of one to ten, how devastated would you be if we didn’t taste your roast chicken?” he asks.

I tilt my head. “Well, I am rather hungry.”

“I can fill you up, babe.”

I laugh. “I don’t doubt it.”

He kisses that sensitive part under my ear, and with just one brush of skin against skin, I’m a puddle of longing.

“I think I overcooked the chicken anyway.”

“They won’t even miss us.” He brushes another kiss a little lower on my neck.

“They can see themselves out,” I murmur.

He pulls away from me, looking me in the eye. “Let’s go.”

We stand in tandem and all but run out of the room, like naughty children escaping detention.

“It’s about damn time!” Daisy yells at our departing backs.

“Bro, give her some good loving!” Sebastian calls out.

“Would you like more rolls, Mrs. Maple?” I hear Audrey ask, taking over the role of hostess. She does it better than I do anyway.

I giggle as we rush up the stairs. We finally reach my bedroom, and Chase grabs me, pulling me toward him, and slams the door of my childhood room behind us.

“Finally,” he says with satisfaction. “Alone.”





CHAPTER 38





Olivia



I reach for him, and there’s a desperation to our movements.

“I want you, Chase,” I mumble through long, drawn-out, drugging kisses. “Make love to me. Be my first.”

We draw apart now. Our foreheads touching, deep, labored breaths mingling. His eyes are on mine, trying to read my mind. “Are you sure?”

“More than anything in the world. I love you, Chase James.”

He closes his eyes, as if hearing the words is too much for him. When he opens them, his eyes burn into mine in heated tenderness.

In one swift motion, he lifts me like I’m made of feathers. I make a surprised sound at the unexpected gesture and hold on as he carries me across the room, kissing me the entire time.

When we reach my bed, I slide down his body, and we stand there, just staring at each other. I feel the weight of the moment.

Chase’s hand trembles as he brushes it over my collarbone. He bends and kisses that patch of exposed skin, and gooseflesh breaks out. My whole body trembles like his hand, from excitement, from anticipation, from nerves.

A gust of laughter breaks out from the party below, and we look at each other. It makes our act seem more illicit, which ratchets up the nerves and excitement.

His half-smile sends longing coursing through me. God, what it does to me. It’s sexy and secretive and naughty, and it focuses my gaze back on his lips. I tiptoe up and kiss him until he takes my mouth and gives me the kiss back tenfold.

His hands mark every part of me, a little desperate, a little clumsy. And I love that he’s not being practiced and smooth, because as I stand there being worshipped, I acknowledge I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m desperate to get his shirt off. I feel his hard abs and smooth skin and strong chest, and I don’t want clothes between us. I don’t want anything between us. Skin-to-skin and heart-to-heart. My soul is his.

He walks me backward a step, and I fall to the bed as he stands over me, like a conquering god. His eyes are full of want for me. I’m humbled. And slick with desire.

Our minds must be on the same track because he murmurs, “I need your clothes off. Now.”

That’s when it hits me. This whole sex thing means I need to get naked in front of one of the most beautiful people on the planet.

I’ve been there before, but damn, it’s bright in here.

When we walked into the room, Chase flipped the light switch.

“Um. Okay. But can we turn off the lights?” I mumble.

“I want to see you, Olivia.”

“I just need some mood lighting here, Chase. Work with me. Overhead lights off. Twinkly lights on? Or candles?” I ask.