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I did everything in my power to force my feet to start moving and walk back to my seat, but instead, I found myself not able to. And to make matters even worse, I replied, “Because?”
There was now a war happening in her eyes. A level of emotion I hadn’t seen from her before.
“Because I’m not in a position to talk to anyone in that way.” She focused on my right eye, gradually moving to my left.
“You told me you were single.”
She nodded. “I am. And I was.”
“Then, what the fuck are you talking about?”
She turned completely around, so we were facing each other. “I’m not in a place where I can get involved. Emotionally. Physically. And I was afraid that if I reached out, you would think?—”
“That I wanted more?” I laughed. “No. That’s not me. You’ve got the wrong guy.”
She searched my eyes, but this time was different from before. This time, she was looking for an answer. “If that’s the case, why did you want me to Google you?”
“I didn’t say I wanted you to. I said you could have.”
Her hands fell to her sides. “I don’t want to argue.” She tightened her fingers and then lifted her arms to wrap them around her stomach. “I’m sorry.”
If she called this arguing, her past confrontations must have been weak. Neither of us was even raising our voices.
“Why are you apologizing, Lily?”
“Because that’s what I know how to do.”
I noted her response and assured her, “But you don’t need to. We’re not fighting.”
“Things were left a little unsettled. I mean, I darted out without even saying goodbye. We both obviously have feelings about that, or we wouldn’t be talking about it now.” Her arms looked like they were tightening around her. “I just want you to know it’s not you. You were … perfect.” She drew in some air, holding it for several seconds before she said, “More perfect than I’ve ever experienced in my life.”
What had happened to this woman? Where was the pain in her eyes coming from?
If she was single, why was she in a place where she couldn’t get emotionally or physically involved?
And why did I feel the need to get the answer to that question? Why the hell was it eating at me?
“I’ve never met anyone like you, Brady,” she continued. “No one has ever made me feel the way you did.”
Her admission hit me.
Not just a tap.
It fucking slammed into me harder than I had been ready for.
“Lily—”
My voice cut off as the plane dipped down several feet. A couple of heavy bumps of turbulence followed, and while she grabbed the counter to steady herself, I reached for her waist.
God, she felt so fucking good in my arms. She molded right to me, like her body had been carved from my outline, and while I held her against me, I let nothing separate us.
Not even air.
Her eyes immediately widened as my dick pressed into her, and as our stares locked, she licked across her lips. Not in a way that was sexual—although it was impossible for Lily not to look seductive while she was doing anything—but in a way that told me she was buying herself some time to come up with what she wanted to say.
Her hands moved to my chest, flattening over my pecs.
Holding them, not pushing them.
