Page 80 of One Kiss Isn't Enough
“Then have another one for me.” Chloe’s cheerful with her pleading eyes and faux pout as she holds out the bottle.
“Well, how can I say no to that?” I jokingly respond to cut the tension in the room more than anything else.
Another round, a plate of sweets, and the story of how Chloe and Sebastian came to be a couple turns the night around. That and the fact that Daniel pulls me into his embrace. My right side is pressed to his hard, toned body, and his stubble gently scratches my hair as he sets his chin on my head and then kisses my crown.
Maybe it works both ways. Back and forth. The rock thing. That makes it difficult, though, when both people are breaking apart.
DANIEL
Her laugh is addictive. It’s my drug. The way her cheeks flush, the way her back arches just slightly and her shoulders shake so gently—it all soothes something inside of me that I don’t even know is broken until that sweet sound seeps into the crevices and calms the hurt that follows me every day.
That’s how I knew I loved her.
The sad, pretty girl who was always around when we were kids smiled easily enough. It wasn’t real though. It was a smile that wanted to be more. She wanted to laugh.
And everything inside of me wanted to hear it. I needed to hear it.
Just like I needed to hear it tonight. Everyone else’s laugh turns to white noise, just like the clinking of the silverware on empty plates and the dull hum of Aria saying something to Carter. All I can hear is Addison’s laugh. All I can watch is how her shoulders curl in, and instinctively, her hand finds my lap.
I’m quick to catch it with my own, to squeeze it gently. When she leans into me, humming a small good night to Chloe as she leaves, I kiss her hair and try to memorize everything about this moment.
It’s perfect like this. This is how it should be all the time. She should laugh every day. She should smile and reach out to me while she catches her breath with the soft murmur of happiness lingering on her lips.
Every day.
It’s easy to say we’re broken. It’s easy to feel the pain. To hold on to this though — the moments I feel what’s really between us — to let ourselves feel it, that’s the easiest thing I can do, and the hardest just the same.
“Night.” Carter’s voice is accompanied by a tight squeeze of my shoulder as they walk behind us.
Addison makes a move to clean up the dishes but Jase reaches for them first, clearing the table and collecting the few remaining dishes in one stack balanced in his left hand. “I got this,” he says with a smirk and winks at her. “You cook, we clean.”
“Thanks,” she tells him and he tells us good night, exiting the room, leaving us to head to bed.
The sound of an empty room is the worst sound. I’ve spent too much of my life in quiet spaces.
“You had a good time tonight.” I hold Addison’s hand as we walk, not wanting to let her go just yet. There were good moments and bad ones too, but I don’t mention the tense ones.
Carter or Jase…whoever it was who thought to have the dinner tonight, was right. We never had dinners growing up, not like this. Not after our mom died and everything happened. I could hardly stand to walk into the eat-in kitchen, let alone sit at the table with hope like I did tonight. “We should do it more often.”
“Yeah. It was fun,” she tells me as we walk down the quiet hall to our wing. The walls are decorated with her photographs. Moments she thought were worthy of capturing on film. Before we get to the bedroom, she stops, lifting her hand from my grasp to touch the edge of a carved black frame mounted against the walls, which are painted a pale dusty blue.
“This one’s my favorite of the ones I took while we were away,” she says softly.
Her fingertips trace over the glass and down the alley that led to the bar where she first saw me again after so many years had passed.
While we were away. Is that the way she thinks of it?
“I think I like the others better.”
“What others?” she says and turns to me quickly, her hair swirling from her shoulder to tumble down her back. Her genuine curiosity makes her eyes widen slightly and it forces my lips to curve up.
“The ones of you in my bed,” I answer her and then quickly nip her lower lip as lust just barely reaches her eyes. My blood simmers with desire for her and the need to touch her always.
“You’re bad, Daniel Cross,” she whispers playfully with passion in her voice as I open the door behind her while letting my lips caress the crook of her neck.
Her eyes are still closed when I pull back. She swallows with a gentle hum and lets her head fall back to rest against the molding that lines the bedroom door.
I find myself trapped in her words. You’re bad, Daniel Cross.