Chapter 13

I try to hold my breath from Madison Square Garden all the way up to the Upper West Side. It's a battle between passing out in Beau's arms or breathing in his spicy scent that makes my toes curl. I honestly don't know which one is worse.

I don't end up passing out. Which means I'm this close to doing something ill-advised by the time we're spat out onto the street a couple blocks from my apartment. I hunch in on myself, scurrying away from Beau now that I have space to do it. Not that it's hard for him to keep up. In fact, I can feel him directly behind me, a looming shadow I can't get rid of.

I squeeze myself into the corner of the elevator when we get to my building. Thank fucking god he stays on the other side and doesn't try to crowd me. My luck runs out when we get to my apartment though.

"G."

I busy myself with I don't even know what.

"Gavin."

I open the refrigerator door and stick my head in. He can't see me when I'm half inside the fridge, right? Wrong. He leans over the top of the door and gets in my face.

"Gavin!"

"What?" I jump and the door slams shut, making the entire fridge shake.

"What the fuck, Gavin?" Beau holds his hands out to the side before letting them drop.

"What?" I shuffle backward until I hit the kitchen counter. Shit, I'm trapped.

Beau leans in, planting his arms on either side of me. Goddamn it, now I'm really trapped. His lips are set in a firm flat line and his eyes glint with something I've never seen from him before.

"Stop running away from me," he all but growls.

The sound travels through me, lighting me up from the inside out. My stomach tightens, my dick plumps, my balls draw up. He's close. So close. Too close.

I plant both palms on his chest, but when I push, he doesn't budge. "Beau, you don't know what you're doing." There's a needy tremor in my voice and Beau's eyes darken.

"You're right, I don't know what I'm doing." His gaze drops to my mouth, and without thinking, my tongue slips out to moisten my lips. "So tell me, Gavin. Tell me what this is."

Oh god, the way he said my name, desperate and confused, grappling for answers. Answers I don't have. My fingers curl into fists with the fabric of his shirt caught inside. I squeeze my eyes shut and drop my head forward until it rests on his shoulder. I want him so fucking much and he's making it impossible to resist him.

His arms close around me, holding me to him. His hands are like heating pads burning through my clothes and searing my skin. He slides one down to settle at the small of my back. The other goes up to the nape of my neck, then into my hair. I shudder when his fingertips scrape across my scalp.

"Beau." It's my last plea for him to be the responsible one, the clear-headed one who can pull us back from this brink.

Instead, he runs his fingers through my hair. "Gavin." He sounds just as tortured as I feel.

I lift my head to glance at him and the look in his eyes takes my breath away. He's never looked at me like this before. Hell, I don't think I've ever seen him look at Lucy this way either. Like I'm the only thing in the world that matters. Like he needs to have me or he'll die. Like he's going to devour me whole.

I don't know who moves first, but the moment our lips touch, tears start prickling my eyes. It's so perfect. It's what I've waited for my whole life. It's everything I've ever wanted.

Beau's lips are pillowy soft against mine, made more so by the contrast with his day-old stubble. His tongue sneaks out for a lick, tracing the seam of my mouth. I open for him. It's nothing more than a tentative touch of tongues at first, but even that sends shudders through both of us. We move slowly, tip-toeing forward like neither of us has ever been kissed before.

And just like a teenager, my cock is rock hard, pressing uncomfortably against the zipper of my pants. Every swipe of my tongue against his is electric, building in strength until I'm certain I'm going to come in my underwear.

I break off the kiss before I do. My hands are still clenched around the front of his shirt. I don't dare move. The smallest amount of friction will be enough to set me off.

Beau's breathing as hard as I am, chests rising and falling like we've just finished a sprint. His forehead rests against mine and his exhales tease me with puffs of air against my sensitive lips. "G, Gavin, what—? I don't?—?"

I shake my head. "I don't know either."