Page 22 of Where You Are
“So, how was Buffalo?” she asks and I let out a breathless chuckle at her change in subject, but I can’t blame her. I can tell she knows why I put on the brakes, and she’s not offended.
“It was good,” I answer her, my voice coming out gravelly as I place a kiss on her forehead. “It was fun. I like playing those festivals.”
“That’s really nice,” she breathes out, sincerely. “You like it more than playing your own concerts, knowing the fans are there just for you?”
“I love that too, it’s a real rush. I like the festivals for different reasons. I don’t know,” I try to explain, shrugging, feeling a sudden contentment. I welcome the realization that we’re falling into conversation. I like the subtle reminder that we’re two people that want to connect with each other on more than just a physical level. I feel a well-rounded sense of intimacy as I stand here, settling between her legs as we catch up with each other mentally too. “There’s a harmonious vibe to the festivals when you’re playing with a lineup of other bands you respect and the fans are all there to enjoy all of you.”
“That makes sense,” she nods with an easy smile.
“Yeah, and I was surprised by something,” I add and her eyebrows go up, cuing me to continue. “I didn’t expect to miss you like I did, Em.”
Her green eyes sparkle up at me but she’s quiet.
“Is that okay? That I missed you?”
“It’s more than okay. It’s just surreal, you know? Being here with you, touching you like this,” she reflects, gently playing with the hem of my t-shirt. “Hearing you say you missed me while you were gone…”
“Why?” I ask, “How does that all make you feel?”
“It feels good, M,” she tells me, and my heart tries not to explode at the sound of her using our mutual nickname. “I missed you too.”
I’ve seen so many different sides to this woman over the past few weeks, but this one is new. She just shared a piece of her vulnerability with me, and if feels like a gift, bringing us closer together.
I’m falling in love with Melanie Krasinski.
Chapter Twelve
Melanie
“Oops,you’ve got a little sour cream there,” I tell Matt as I delicately take hold of his chin and wipe it away from the corner of his mouth with my thumb.
Today’s post-run cuisine is truck tacos.
“You know that would’ve been more fun if you’d gotten it with your tongue,” he says, leaning in close over the counter with pure seduction in his eyes.
“Yeah, well, if you can hold back, so can I,” I tease, referring to how he’s been torturing us both by withholding the goods.
“Speaking of…” he continues, “what do you have going on in the next few days?”
I look at the ceiling and think for just a moment.
“Um… I’m finishing a brochure for the new spa uptown, but that’s all I’ve got for work. Why?”And what the hell does it have to do with you not putting out?
He sets his jaw and looks at me a moment like he’s nervous before answering.
“I’d like to take you to my lake house for a few days.”
“Your lake house?” I parrot.
“Yeah. Well, it’s not mine, it’s my stepdad’s, but being that my parents are never around, I kind of have free rein of it.”
“Wow, I’d love to,” I marvel, getting excited at the prospect. “Where is it?”
“Just about a forty minute drive north of Port Huron. It’s a small town and the house is nice and open, but has plenty of privacy.”
“It sounds amazing.”
“Yeah, I love it there and I’d like to take you. I mean, we’ve been trying not to be seen by fans or photographers here so I want to go somewhere with you where we can kick back and enjoy each other out in the open. That way we can get a little closer… get a better idea of where this is headed?” He gestures a hand between him and me.