Hangry

by Lily Kate

  “This isn’t our first date. Maybe on paper it is, but without knowing it, I’ve had my sights set on you our whole life. I always knew you’d be the perfect woman for me—that was never the question. What I didn’t know was whether or not I deserved you.”

  “Of course you do, Brad, we deserve each other!”

  “I still don’t feel like I deserve you most days, but I’m going to do my damndest to change that.” He slides his stool closer and wraps one arm behind my back so it rests just above my waist. “You make me want to be better, act better, do things the right way.”

  He pauses for a breath, and I use the opportunity to take a sip of wine. My head is spinning.

  “It wasn’t easy asking you out in the elevator after I’d been such a jerk to you. You had every reason to ignore me, or worse. But you didn’t. That’s why you’re so amazing. You’re one of a kind, and that day, I decided if I didn’t throw my hat in the ring and show you the very best side of Bradley Hamilton I could, I might lose you forever.”

  “You have never needed to show me your best side,” I tell him. “I’ve always appreciated all sides of you. The funny, the angry, the competitive, the tender.”

  “Tender side?” he says, with a teasing raised eyebrow. “Tell me more about this tender side.”

  “The teasing side,” I add, leaning in and planting a kiss on his cheek. “The handsome side, the protective side, the chaste side who waited twenty damn years to show me what the hell I was missing in bed.”

  “Ten years,” he amends.

  “It’s still too long.”

  “And we haven’t even scratched the surface,” he says. “Consider that the appetizer.”

  “I think I’m ready for the full course meal.”

  “No.” Then he looks surprised, as if this wasn’t the answer he’d expected to come out of his mouth. “I mean, I want you more than anything in this world. I have been going insane these last few weeks. I swear I’ve lost weight from being turned on around the clock.”

  “Well, I apologize to your penis.”

  He laughs, and pulls me close. “This is why I love you. We can have a serious moment, or a...” he clears his throat. “Tender one, and you still know how to make me laugh.”

  “Either that, or I’m not very funny, and you just have a bad sense of humor.”

  He laughs again, takes me by the hand. “Come on, let’s dance.”

  “But what about the full course meal?” I whine. “I’m very tempted by your offer. You’ve made it sound irresistible.”

  He brings me into his arms, and we shuffle awkwardly across the room so he can flip on one of the slow songs that’d been popular in our high school days. “I’m building up the anticipation.”

  “We’ve anticipated so much these last few weeks. I’m done anticipating.”

  “Remember what I said about tonight?”

  “You said a lot of things about tonight.”

  “The part about me wanting to do things differently tonight. All the things I wouldn’t do in high school.”

  “Oh, yeah. That. Right.”

  We start swaying to the music, and his hands begin in a very chaste place on my back. As the bars of the song progress, he eases his hands down behind my butt and gives a gentle squeeze as he pulls me close.

  “If you’d given me a single indication that you were interested in me as more than a friend in high school,” he says, pausing to close his eyes as he runs his hands over my hips. “God, you feel good.”

  “I think you lost your train of thought.”

  “Right. High school. I would’ve ditched prom before dinner and taken you to bed. Hell, I would’ve broken into a spare classroom and taken you there.”

  “Gee, that’s romantic.”

  “You don’t know the bounds of a teenage male’s hormones.”

  I grin. “You know, I’m not sure I would’ve been entirely opposed. I mean, I had no clue what I was doing back then...” I hesitate, clear my throat. “Not that I consider myself an expert these days, but I imagine that night would’ve gone quite differently than in our heads.”

  “You don’t consider yourself an expert?” he says in a strangled voice. “Honey, please. Can’t you feel what you do to me?”

  Pressed together, his firm length against my stomach, I sigh and lean further into him. “I thought that was teenage boy hormones. Maybe they never left.”

  “These are all adult, sweetheart. And tonight, I’m not going to rush a second of it. We’re going to dance, and drink wine, and kiss. We’re going to take things so slow you’ll be begging for me to take you home.”

  “Is that right?” I’m already feeling a little light headed, and the thought of begging might have crossed my mind. “That’s willpower.”

  “I’ve been training my whole life.”

  I laugh at the image, and drop my head to his chest. We move in slow circles together, clinging to one another, fighting the end of the song. As if the last chords ringing out might break whatever magic has bloomed between us this evening.

  “Lexi,” he murmurs against my hair. “I have waited so long to tell you I love you.”

  “Bradley—”

  “Don’t say anything back, not yet, but whenever you’re ready. If you’re ready.”

  The song winds to a close as Bradley dips me low to the floor, his lips teasing mine with sweet little kisses.

  When he rights us again, he’s smiling. “You look so beautiful.”

  “Bradley, I—” I’m ready to say I love you too, but he interrupts my proclamation by gesturing to the chocolate fountain.

  “Remember prom?” he says. “You got a paper cup and tried to fill it with chocolate.”

  “Got a smudge on my dress,” I add with a grin. “My mom was pissed, but it looks like it came out.”

  I glance down at the silvery gown that somehow still fits me. It’s a little tight around the boobs and the hips, but thankfully it’s flowy enough to slide over the rest of the curves that came further along into adulthood.

  “Oh, shit, I completely forgot.” Without an explanation, Bradley disappears into the office for a moment, and when he returns, he’s carrying a corsage. “I meant to give this to you right away, but...”

  “You undressed me instead of dressing me.”

  He winces. “I guess I’m not as patient as I thought.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I shiver as his hand touches mine, sliding the corsage into place. “You have the patience of a saint. You let me have all the fun. Speaking of fun, is our date over yet? I hate to be a spoilsport, but I think we have somewhere to be.”

  I step toward him, trying out that eyelash fluttering thing that seems to work so well for some women. Apparently, it doesn’t work well for me because he reaches behind me for the open bottle of wine and pours us both a glass.

  “One more drink,” he says. “And a last dance. Then, we can conclude our date.”

  Chapter 27

  LEXI

  One drink led to two more, a few hours more of dancing, and so much laughter my stomach aches. I’d given up trying to tempt him into leaving because it had not worked at all.

  Also, I’d been having too much fun to leave. No matter how much I look forward to later, I refuse to rush the present.

  The present, as it turns out, is a wonderful place to be. Especially now that we’re locking up the restaurant and stumbling down the front steps.

  “It’s the shoes,” I say, kicking off my heels. “Not the wine.”

  “We’ve had three glasses over what... eight hours? I hope it’s not the wine.”

  Bradley extends an arm to me, but I forego it and jump onto his back. My shoes dangle from my hand and my arms wrap around his neck.

  “Just like old times,” I murmur against his ear. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Hamilton.”

  We giggle and traipse the short distance toward home, taking our time to admire the freshly blooming lilacs, the bright stars shining down at us. The sun will
be here soon, and for once, I want dawn to stay away.

  Somewhere in the stars, I’ve discovered that I’m in love. And I don’t want it to ever go away.

  When we reach our block, he sets me down and runs an arm over my shoulder. “Lexi.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Earlier tonight, you mentioned you wanted to have a family. A husband, a house, all of that.”

  “Yeah, but I wasn’t trying to pressure you into—”

  “Do you see me in that picture?”

  “Sorry?”

  “The husband, the dad, the partner in crime. Can you see me in that role?”

  “I haven’t...”

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

  “Yes,” I tell him, and it’s a burst of truth that I can’t seem to stop. “Okay? Yes. I’ve thought about it, and I’ve always had a tiny bubble inside of me that wanted us to end up together, but I never thought it would happen. So I tucked it away, deep inside, and did my best not to think about it.”

  “But it’s still there?”

  “Yes,” I tell him, and my voice is a little choked up. “You brought it back, you jerk. I tried for years to not think about it, and now it’s back.”

  “Stop fighting it.”

  “How? Why? What if you decide I’m not the one for you?”

  “Dammit, Lexi, have I not made myself clear? If you wanted to get married tomorrow, I’d marry you. I know what I want, I always have. It’s very clear to me. I’ve been waiting for you to decide.”

  “For me?”

  “For you. I know it’s not reasonable to ask you to marry me now, but I don’t think it was too soon for me to tell you say I’m in love with you. This isn’t our first date, Lexi Monroe. Every moment we’ve spent together has been leading to this moment.”

  “But we only kissed for the first time, like, two months ago.”

  “And our chemistry is not the issue,” he says, raising a hand in frustration. “You have me on the verge of exploding anytime you’re in the room. It’s not just about sex, it’s about everything else.”

  “I know that.”

  “And I’ve gotten to know all the other stuff. I know you buy bulk Oreos when you’re stressed, and instead of dealing with a problem you’ll run to Costco to procrastinate and hunt samples.”

  “I don’t do that as much...anymore.”

  “You did last week.”

  “I’m allowed once a month.”

  “I know that you love your parents, but you’re okay to see them on holidays, birthdays, and a few other occasions. Too much, and your mother tries to treat you like her little girl again.”

  “I’ll give you that one.”

  “I know you’re impossibly close with your brother, and he’ll rip my balls off if I do anything to hurt you.”

  Another smile. “Fine, but those are obvious things.”

  “I know that when you said my name on that couch earlier tonight, it was the sexiest thing in this world,” he says, his eyes darkening. “And I know that when I’m finally inside you, everything will be right in my life.”

  My stomach is on fire. Every tendril of me is burning for him, and I realize that he’s right. He knows me...inside and out. Intimately. Publicly. When I’m stressed and tired and angry and sad. He’s been there for it all, and this is us, picking up right where we left off.

  “Come on,” I say, taking his hand. “Let’s go inside.”

  We make it through the front doors, the tension crackling around us, electric currents sizzling through the air. We’re barely touching, but that’s the sexiest part of it all.

  Bradley punches the elevator button with enough force to jam a lesser man’s finger, and I can see that he’s ready. I gulp for oxygen. This moment has been so long in coming. What if I am horrible? What if I choke? What if...

  “Stop thinking so much,” he growls, pulling me into the elevator. “Yes, I even know the way your brain works.”

  The doors ding shut, and we begin our ascent. “Okay, then,” I tell him, a bit of pink in my cheeks as I fight back the embarrassment. There’ll be no hiding anything from him; I can see that right now. “If you’re so smart, tell me what I’m thinking.”

  Bradley’s eyes flash to me, quick for a second, and then stall. Linger there. He looks puzzled, as if he’s not quite sure what’s on my mind, and I can tell he doesn’t like it.

  “You never answered my question,” he says, changing the subject, his voice nearly hoarse. “Do you see me in your life?”

  “I answered your question. I said yes.”

  “Fine. But do you want me there?”

  “Yes, dammit!” I explode. “I’ve always loved you, Brad. I want you in my life. I want you to kiss me senseless, and then take me to bed and finish what you started. And then I want you to cook me breakfast in the morning.”

  “And the morning after, and the morning after?” He steps close, backing me against the elevator wall. “And then marry you, and sweep you away on our honeymoon, and then make babies together?”

  I’m a melted puddle of goo at this because it is what I want, and I’ve never gotten the courage to tell him, or to tell anyone for that matter. I’m not even sure I knew myself, but now that it’s clear—it’s crystal clear.

  I can’t manage to speak, so I nod.

  Then the doors slide open to reveal an empty hallway. I step out first, but apparently, I’m not moving fast enough because Bradley scoops me into his arms and marches me to his apartment.

  He unlocks the door, kicks it open, and slams it behind him. We continue straight on through to the bedroom where I’ve laid many times before as a buddy, a friend.

  When Bradley lays me on the bed, there’s nothing platonic about his expression; it’s every bit primal. “I need to have you,” he murmurs. “But I’m going to make sure this is slow and perfect for you. The first time.”

  “You already made things perfect for me,” I murmur, letting out a gasp as his hand touches my thigh, slides my dress high. “Why wait? We can go slow the next time.”

  “I’m going to leave your dress on,” he says. “For now. If I see you naked, my patience will vanish.”

  “Whatever you need.” My head rests on the pillows, his bed soft as clouds. I’m in heaven, now, I’m sure of it. This is bliss. “But take off your shirt.”

  “You’re fine to go again?” he asks, unbuttoning it slowly.

  “It’s been five hours! I’ve been ready for four hours and fifty-eight minutes.”

  “Well, then, let’s not wait a second longer, shall we?”

  My eyes clench shut as he begins to touch, to stroke, to caress. Already, it’s almost familiar how he moves, how he kisses, how he gives and takes, pushes and pulls.

  He always gives more than he takes, always slows when things burn too bright. When his finger dips inside me, I can’t hold back a sharp breath. It’s true, what he says—he knows me so well, every inch of me. Knows how to move, what to say, how to touch, and it drives me into a state of panicked frenzy that’s more intense than anything I’ve experienced in this world.

  “Bradley,” I say, my voice ragged. “Please, stop.”

  “Stop?” He gives me an evil grin and withdraws, leaving me breathless and empty. At my horrified look, he shrugs. “You said stop.”

  “I didn’t mean stop completely,” I cry, enraged. “You know what I mean. Let me hold you.”

  Something in my voice cracks, and it must do the trick because Bradley nods. He gently, carefully runs a hand up my thigh, a few more strokes as he leans forward to kiss me.

  I’m wound in knots as our lips meet, sensual and needy and utterly delicious. His hand works circles below, while his tongue takes me from above. I rise to meet him, holding onto his back as my nails dig into his skin.

  If anything, it brings us closer, tighter, more intimate.

  “I have waited for so long to have you,” he murmurs against my ear. “I can’t believe it’s happening.”

/>   “Brad, listen, look.” I pull him just a hair away from me because he’s got my feelings so twisted, turned inside out and vulnerable, that I’m on the verge of tears. My skin is so sensitive to the touch the slightest whisper of wind would scorch me. “I love you. I want you, I need you, and I want this to last. Forever.”

  His face crumbles, any sign of patience fading to the background. This piece of Bradley Hamilton, the rawness of his spirit, finally shows. Everything.

  I’m speechless, he’s quiet, and eventually, he strips me out of my clothes, and he follows suit. Then, he reaches for a foil wrapper. I’m holding onto his shoulders, struggling for air when he nudges my entrance, poised there as we lock eyes.

  He holds there, against me. I’m trembling for him, and his eyes are the darkest shade of brown. I can barely hold his arms for how badly I’m shaking, and when he presses inside, slowly, inch by inch, I close my eyes and let the sensations take over.

  We share a gasp, an inhalation, the wonder of how perfect we feel together. There’s a joy and an intensity all wrapped into one, and I can’t help my eyes stinging with the anticipation of it all, finally rushing to a close.

  “Sweetheart,” he says, leaning close. “Why are you crying?”

  “I’m not,” I say, my voice a rasp. “It’s just so perfect.”

  He smiles, gentle and sweet, and pulls back. Then pushes and pulls, pushes and pulls. We fit together in a way that only two souls meant for each other can, and when he eases his body over mine, covering me completely, I let out a sigh that’s been held back for years.

  “You are incredible,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’m not going to last long.”

  “Despite a lifetime of training?”

  He pauses, and then realizing the joke, laughs. “Despite a lifetime of training, you have ruined me.”

  My hands come up, twine through his hair. “You ruined me the day I met you, Bradley Hamilton.”

  Then his hands grip my hips and jerk me upward, and the incredible sensations bring a silence over both of us. I latch on with whatever strength I can muster as he drives us now, faster and faster, escalating every second like it’ll be the last.

  The crest looms before us as he rocks us harder, deeper. I arch upward, out of control. My fingers tear at the sheets, claw at his back. His mouth brushes my neck, my lips, and as both of us clamor for the brink of everything, he locks his lips with mine and swallows my cries of desperate need.