Page 66 of Sweet Madness
“You look like an angel,” I blurt softly, my voice carrying over the whispering of the wind.
Her eyes sparkle as she laughs—a melodic sound that echoes through the field. “And you,” she replies, “like a dashing devil.”
In that moment, I realize just how different we are from one another. It’s not only the age gap or our lifestyles but the way we both look as well. She’s always a vision dressed in designer clothes, her skin a beautiful untouched canvas, while I’m a simple man in stained clothes and inked skin. Yet… perhaps that is what drew me to her in the first place. She’s my opposite in every way.
She’s the softness to my harshness. The sweet to my sour. The wild to my tamed. The color to my dullness.
As we share a moment and our gazes lock, I feel my heart skip a beat at the sight of her. Her eyes sparkle with an intensity that makes my pulse quicken. She approaches slowly, as if trying not to spook a wild animal, with a grace that seems effortless, each step bringing her closer until she is nearly closing the gap between us.
I feel trapped by her gaze, which fills me with warmth that reaches into my soul, causing my breath to catch. I can’t tear my eyes away from hers, captivated by the way she looks at me as if I am the only person in the world. As if I am the only one she ever wants to see.
Then, with a soft smile that always seems to melt my defenses, she walks toward me until we are almost chest to chest. I gaze down at her, struck by the tenderness in her expression. “You found me,” she says softly, her voice barely more than a whisper, yet carrying a depth of emotion that makes my chest ache.
“I found you,” I whisper, held captive by her gaze.
Her cheeks flush faintly as she looks up at me with a mixture of tenderness and something more—something that scares the hell out of me.
But then, all of a sudden, her eyes turn sad and her posture seems guarded.
“I’m sorry,” she begins softly, her voice tinged with nervousness and embarrassment. “For kissing you yesterday. I shouldn’t have assumed…”
Her words hang in the air, and the organ in my chest skips several beats as I process her apology. Not knowing what she is apologizing for, I look at her, silently urging her to continue.
“I shouldn’t have assumed that you felt the same way. It was wrong of me,” she finishes, her gaze dropping briefly before meeting mine again, clearly searching for any sign of disappointment or anger.
I am stunned that she has noticed the depth of my feelings and that she feels she has to apologize for missing me. I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts before responding.
“Moonshine… you don’t need to apologize,” I say softly, my voice reassuring.
“I do. It was wrong, and I’m sorry for embarrassing you. You’re my friend, and I don’t want to lose you.”
Friend.
Fuck.
The word stings.
“You could never lose me,” I say in a moment of insanity while holding her gaze.
I shouldn’t have said that. Fuck.
But I’ve come to realize that this is no fleeting feeling. It won’t disappear if I hide away or if she leaves me. I’m completely and utterly fucked.
Because even when we’re miles or maybe oceans away, she’ll still have me.
Her blue eyes widen slightly, surprise mingling with a hint of relief. A small smile plays on her lips as she reaches out to gently squeeze my hand.
“I’m glad,” she murmurs, her voice soft and gentle. “You make me happy. This place does too. I don’t ever want to jeopardize your job or your life by being impulsive.”
Her touch sends a shock of electricity up my arm to my heart. My chest tightens, and the air feels like it’s not reaching my lungs.
This is what this girl does to me.
She makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.
I’m a man in my mid-thirties, and a girl who is a decade younger is making me feel more than anyone has in my entire life with her addictive touch and perfect smile.
Her heart…