Page 59 of A Wish for Us

I stared into Cromwell’s eyes and saw the pleading there. I had no idea why he wanted me to sing it. I had sung as much as I could of late. It was getting harder and harder, my breathing robbing me of my greatest joy. My voice had lost strength, yet I hadn’t lost passion.

“Sing,” he said again. There was a desperation on his face. One that made me melt. In this moment, begging me to sing, he looked beautiful.

Even though I was scared, I pushed through. It was the way I lived. I always tried to face my fears head-on. Closing my eyes, needing to escape Cromwell’s stare, I opened my mouth and let the song free. I heard my voice, weakened and strained, sail out around the room. I heard Cromwell’s breathing beside me. And I felt him when he moved closer to my side.

“Open your eyes,” he whispered into my ear. “See your song.”

I let go and just let Cromwell lead. I opened my eyes and lost my rhythm when I was bathed in a cocoon of pinks and purples. Cromwell’s fingers ran across mine. “Keep going.”

With my eyes locked on the ceiling, I sang. Tears sprang to my eyes as my words brought forth colors so beautiful I felt them down to my soul. As my voice sang the final word, I blinked the tears away. I watched the final line of pink fade to white, then nothing.

The silence in the aftermath was thick. My breathing was labored. It was labored as I felt the heavy stare of Cromwell’s blue eyes on me. I took three deep breaths then turned his way.

I didn’t get time to look into his eyes. I didn’t get time to see his dimple in his left cheek. I didn’t get time to ask him if he saw the pinks and purples of my voice, because the second I turned, his hands cupped my face and his lips pressed to mine. A shocked cry sounded in my throat when I felt him against my mouth. His hands were hot against my face. His chest was pressed flush against mine. But as his lips started to move, I melted into him. Cromwell’s taste of mint, chocolate, and tobacco slipped into my mouth. My hands reached out and clutched his sweater. His musky scent filled my nose, and I let his soft lips work against mine.

Cromwell kissed me. He kissed me and kissed me in soft, slow kisses, until his tongue pushed against the seams and slid into my mouth. He groaned as his tongue met mine. He was everywhere. I felt himeverywhere, my body and senses swept away by the hurricane that was Cromwell Dean.

I moved my tongue with his. Then I felt the cold metal of his tongue ring and sank into him further. Cromwell Dean kissed like he played music—completely and with every ounce of his soul.

He kissed me and kissed me until I had no breath left in my body. I broke away, gasping. But Cromwell wasn’t finished. As I searched for air, for any way to fill my lungs and calm my pounding heart, he moved down my neck. My eyes fluttered closed, and I held on to his sweater like it was my lifeline from being swept away by everything that was Cromwell. His warm breath drifted down my neck and caused goose bumps to spread over my skin.

I looked up, and I saw bright greens and lilac purples dancing around us—the color of our kisses.

But it was too much. My chest tightened at the exertion, at the all too encompassing heaviness that was this kiss. I moved my head to tell him so, to break away, but in a second, Cromwell’s lips were back on mine. The minute I felt them, I was his. I sank back into the soft cushion beneath me and let him take my mouth. Cromwell’s tongue met mine, and he shifted his body until it lay over me. My hands moved to his back. His sweater had ridden up as he moved over me. My palms met warm skin, the feel of it heightening every sense I had.

“Cromwell,” I whispered. Orange flashed over the ceiling. “Cromwell,” I repeated, smiling when the same color returned. But that smile faded when I realized what we were doing. That I shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t have let him kiss me. I should have walked away when I still had the chance.

I squeezed my eyes shut and hung on to him like I would never let him go. I deepened the kiss. I kissed him so I would never forget. I kissed him until he was imprinted on my soul.

I eventually pulled back, moving my hands up Cromwell’s body until my hands shadowed his and I cupped his cheeks. His lips were swollen from the kiss, and his stubbled cheeks were warm.

“I can’t.” My heart cracked in two at the confession. “We can’t do this.”

Cromwell searched my face. “Why?”

“I need to get home.”

Cromwell’s eyebrows pulled down in confusion. “Bonn—”

“Please.”

“Okay.”

He got up from the beanbag and moved silently across the room to the lights. I flinched at the invading brightness. In the light, the walls were just black. The magic had gone.

I watched Cromwell move around the room making sure everything was switched off. He came toward me, and as his eyes fell upon me, I couldn’t believe how someone could be so handsome. When he stopped, his feet at mine, he dropped a single long kiss on my forehead.

The room shimmered, and I felt a tear escape my eye. He went to move away, but I grabbed his wrists, savoring him just a little more. Cromwell looked down, a serious expression on his face. I never moved my eyes away. I kept my eyes on him as I moved in, shifting to my tiptoes. I didn’t let myself think this time; I just followed my heart and pressed my lips to his. It was the first time I’d ever initiated a kiss in my life. I would never have believed it would be with Cromwell Dean. But now that we were here, like this, suspended in this most perfect of moments, I knew it would never have been anyone but him.

As I pulled away, I let my forehead fall to his. I breathed him in, committing every second to memory. I lifted my head and met his eyes. A burning question was in my mind. “What did it look like to you?” I asked. “My song. The colors.”

Cromwell breathed in, then, eyes bright, said, “It illuminated the room.”

I sagged against him, resting my head on his chest, my arms around his waist.“It illuminated the room.”

Cromwell led me out of the museum and into his truck. No music played as we made our way home. We didn’t talk either. But it was a comfortable silence. I couldn’t speak. I had a million questions I wanted to ask him. But I didn’t. I had to leave this night exactly where it belonged. In the past. As a memory I’d keep to help me through the journey ahead.

“It illuminated the room…”