Chapter 13

chapter

thirteen

OWEN

"Come with me," Addie whispers, then whirls on her heel.

I don't even register what she says before I put one foot in front of the other, flying next to her. I wouldn't have cared had she told me to shove my face into the ground—I would have fucking done it until dirt filled my nostrils, and I couldn't breathe.

My arm brushes against her shoulder, and something must jog loose in my brain. It's like two live wires in there, cutting off power and letting me function on autopilot.

I slip my hand into hers, but she swats me away, hissing, "Are you insane?"

"It felt like a hold-your-hand moment," I mumble. "My bad."

Ignoring me, she nods and smiles toward a few guests, and gone is the air of wonder I thought I saw in her eyes. A mask disguises her curious features now, and my easy steps falter.

Does she care about my confession? Does she believe me? There's a chance she wants to corner me just to interrogate me like she did over the dinner, as if I admitted the truth about never hating her in hopes of receiving something in return.

She drilled me, and she might as well have sunk her nails into my arms and clawed the shit out of me. It fucking nags at me to think no one ever does nice things for her for the sake of being nice.

At the base of the winding staircase, she pauses to check over both shoulders, then rips off the caution tape.

And my jaw drops.

She's the one who marked off the staircase for fear people would venture into the bedrooms upstairs and mess with the ornate figurines and objects that add to the historical value of this mansion.

But she's now the one tearing down the rules and climbing up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" I whisper, and the infrastructure of the walls carries my echo up to her.

With her hand on the railing, her fingers splayed over the side, she peers down at me with the same sparkle in her eye from before. "Care to find out?"

I trip over my feet in my attempt to reach her.

The paintings and patterned wallpaper are all a blur as we get farther away from the party, the music and chatter fading. In a flash of deep auburn curls and ocean-blue fabric, we disappear into a room. She grabs a fistful of my jacket and yanks me to the side in order to shut the door behind us.

Rays of gold and pink cascade over the bed through the window, and a shadow from the tree outside hides the rest of the room. The wallpaper is colorful and dizzying, with random shapes and what appear to be flowers. I don't think it'd help to turn the light on. I can already tell that the pattern is just too busy to absorb.

My eyes land on Addie. She slowly turns to face me and leans her back against the closed door. What's left of the sun catches the glint in her eyes and the sheen of her dress.

She's glowing like I've never seen her glow before.

I'm fucking captivated. I'm so lost in this trance that I almost don't catch her when she leaps into my arms.

Addie's mouth crashes into mine in a frenzied kiss, stumbling to take root like an anchor in the sea scrambling for enough ground to sink into.

I steady her in my arms, wrapping them around her waist until she's flush against me, my mouth slanted over hers as we melt into our own rhythm.

She tastes of champagne and mint, with a hint of something sweet. What fruit is that?

I open my mouth wider and delve my tongue deeper, determined to drink her in and identify what fruit lingers on her tongue.

I capture her moan, which echoes all the way down my body. The breathy, lust-filled sound travels down my bloodstream like a passenger, shooting straight south until my pants tighten.

"You…" she pants against my mouth and arches into me until her breasts nearly spill out of her sinful dress. "You are such a great kisser."

The hint of surprise isn't lost on me. Even so, pride soars across my stomach.

The room further dims as the sun reaches the end of its journey for the day, and we continue kissing, completely cloaked in darkness.

I'm kissing Addie Lockhart, and I never want to stop.

It's natural. It's right. It's… everything.

A loaded feeling of chaotic puzzle pieces finally falling into place worms its way into my fucking chest. Each burst of energy she elicits with every swipe of her tongue, every whimper and squeeze of her fingers over my arms, brings with it this question—why haven't we spent our whole lives kissing?

The change in the tides between us is almost too overwhelming.

I drag my lips away and finally decide the taste currently dancing in my mouth is strawberry. She tastes of strawberry and mint, like she just enjoyed a mojito.

I press my forehead to hers and inhale, attempting to catch my damn breath. "I've wanted to do this for a while," I confess.

Her gulp bounces off the walls. "What's ‘a while'?"

With the tip of my thumb and forefinger, I tip her chin upward until her blue eyes meet mine. They sparkle under the moonlight as if she holds the stars in them. "Longer than I thought," I whisper.

I guide her back to me, and I fuse my mouth to hers again.

Addie's hands slide from my arms up to my neck until she threads her fingers over my head, tugging on my hair and massaging my scalp. It drives me fucking crazy, and my dick is officially in pain.

"God, Addie…" I growl into her mouth as my hands slide from her hips and grip the underside of her round ass.

My thumbs skim her cheeks, and I nearly bust a nut on the spot.

I need this woman. I need her more than my heart needs its next beat.

"You're fucking gorgeous, Lockhart," I mutter as she nips on my bottom lip, her sighs and whimpers of satisfaction knotting my nerves into disarray.

"Addie, I…" I swallow around the lump in my throat as she drags her nails along my head before she cups her dainty hand over my cheek. "Addie?" I blink.

"Mmm?" She bites her lip.

And I blink again.

"Don't stop kissing me, Owen," she pleads.

"Wait." I grip her upper arms and shift backward, putting enough distance between us to help clear my head. "We're kissing. You and I are kissing."

"We were , anyway." She inhales, and her nostrils flare in the process.

"You and I don't kiss. Why are you kissing me?" I urge as normal function slowly resumes in my brain. "Is this some kind of elaborate prank? Bat your eyelashes and lick those pouty lips until I drop my pants, then you toss them out the window or something?"

"Not at all what I was thinking, but it's a solid prank for future reference."

"Cute," I deadpan. "What's really going on here?"

She tries to ease back into my embrace, but I tighten my grip and lock her in place. She drags her teeth along her bottom lip as her gaze zeroes in on my mouth. "I thought it'd be fun, just this once, to be unpredictable. To be anything but adorable little Addie who never changes."

"Who told you that?"

The corners of her eyes sink until they're frowning, and my stomach turns. "Everyone," she whispers. "Even my mom thinks I'm no fun. You heard her last night."

"She was kidding."

She throws her arms over mine and jerks away from me. "Of course, you'd say that. You think everything's a joke, but you don't know my mom. You don't know me ."

"Is she the one you were talking about in the closet last night? The person you don't want to be?"

She combs her fingers through the ends of her hair and shakes her head. "Forget it. Forget this ever happened, okay? It was stupid."

"I don't want to forget it," I assert, moving toward her.

She glares, but it doesn't stop me.

Instead, I sweep my arms around her and tug her back into me. "Talk to me," I beg.

"I like kissing you."

"Me too." I lean my forehead to hers again as she traces indiscernible patterns on my chest with the tip of her finger. "And I want to keep kissing you, but I need to know what's going on."

"What's going on is that I want you. Right here. Right now. Just once." Her labored breaths fill the little space between us. "I can be unpredictable and spontaneous. Sleeping with you in a room we're not supposed to be in would cover both."

I cringe as her request skitters over me like tiny knives. What she's asking feels… wrong.

I'd love nothing more than to ease her onto this ancient bed and leave our mark in history by leaving my mark on her, but it would be for the wrong reasons.

"Not like this," I say, and the words are heavy, like my tongue is made of cement.

"What are you saying? Are you rejecting me?" She jerks back, attempting to wiggle out of my hold, but I just grip her tighter.

I hover over her, using my body to fill the space she's trying to put between us. Then I slide one hand up the back of her neck and spread my fingers, cradling her head in my large palm. "I don't want you for just one night."

"I thought that was your thing—one-night stands are in line with the Owen Conrad brand just like baseball and wavy hair."

I clench my jaw against the sting of her statement. It's not the first time I've heard something of the sort about me. People have always believed I'm the hit-it-and-quit-it type. That I hooked up with countless women while I played baseball, because I'm a flirt. Being a flirt and a professional athlete equals a serial dater to a lot of people.

But the truth is, very rarely did I ever go out with women, and when I did, it was with a girlfriend. I've always been a long-term kind of guy.

The gossip around town suggesting otherwise is largely misguided, but I've never felt the need to correct the rumors because they've been innocent enough.

Until now.

None of these assumptions have bothered me until Addie just tried to use me because of them.

My blood runs cold, and a chill skates down my spine. "I don't do one-night stands, especially not when I have feelings for someone, no matter how damn frustrating that someone is."

She purses her lips and tries to escape once again, but I can't let her go until she hears me out. This might be my only chance to speak my truth.

"I want you for more than just one night, Lockhart." I gather her hair into my fist and keep her face close to mine. "The next time I kiss you, I don't want it to be because you think you have anything to prove. I have no interest in being your dirty little experiment."

Her lips part, and she relaxes in my arms.

I grasp her hair until I'm sure my knuckles are white, and I tug her backward until her wide eyes lock onto mine. "The next time I kiss you, I want it to be because you beg for it. Because you ache for my mouth, my touch, my body, until you're fighting for air. I won't kiss you otherwise. And angel?" I dip my head low, my lips itching to connect with hers, especially now that I know how perfectly we fit together. "I can't fucking wait for that moment."

I tilt her upright until she's steady on her feet, and I exit the room with echoes of her arousing gasp washing over me, fueling the spark she just ignited.

This is far from over.