Page 21 of Making the Save

I got that weird flutter in my chest when he said it, looking at me like I was the center of his attention, and not the view.

Hold your horses, Syd.All this fluttering attraction? I had to shut it down. Now.

Regardless of how much fun yesterday had been, this wasn’t some happily ever after story. Right now, we were in crisis mode. Zero emotions could be allowed to enter this circle. It would only complicate the narrative.

The narrative he forced us into.

“So?” He wandered over to my guitar collection. He strummed my Gibson Les Paul that had been a gift from Stevie Nicks. He looked good in my little cottage. Like a balanced weight to all the boho/fairy esthetic. “What do we do now?”

I was not going to think about that kiss in the club. I mean, I barely remembered it, but what I did remember made it the single hottest thing that had ever happened to me. If I was a person who could look myself up on social media without being sent down a rabbit hole of self-loathing, I would go and find the videos of that kiss that were probably all over TikTok and see if it looked as hot as it felt.

Probably hotter.

“What are you thinking about?” Wyatt asked, his lips curved in a far too knowing smile.

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring at my lips, Syd. You’re thinking about that hot as fuck kiss in the club.”

“Am not,” I lied. “And neither are you, mister.”

“I don’t know,” he said, walking across the room towards me. “You know the best way to cure a hangover?”

I shook my head, a little breathless as he got closer. God, he was big. Everywhere. Was that what he meant this morning when he asked if Ifeltlike we had sex?

“Orgasms,” he said.

“That’s not true.”

“Pretty sure it’s science.”

He was so close I could reach out and touch him. Trace the edges of muscles on his chest. Rub my palms along that beard and into his hair.

You could do a whole lot more than that.

“We should have a wedding night,” he said.

“For science?” I quipped with a smile.

“Exactly.”

As much as I wanted to, I stepped back and then back again until I couldn’t smell him when I inhaled. Until I could think straight. “We barely know each other,” I said.

He nodded like he’d expected that. Then grinned like a teenage boy who’d taken his shot and wasn’t going to be embarrassed for it.

He was so much himself. Like he just didn’t care what other people thought. It wasn’t just refreshing, but kind of revolutionary. I wished I could be myself like that. Then I wondered what that would even look like? Who was I when I didn’t care what people thought about me?

Geesh. That’s sad.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get to know each other. You have an apartment in New York, too, right?” he asked.

“Did I tell you that?”

“You did.”

“And you live in…” Ugh. It was there, locked behind some tequila. “Denver!”

Wyatt nodded. “I’ve got a loft in the LoDo section of Denver.”