All I Want is You

by Cassie Cross

  “Are you okay? Come up to my apartment, let me get you some ice.” She takes my hand and leads me to the elevator.

  This isn’t how I thought this evening would go, and even though I’m gonna have a hell of a shiner, I’m feeling no pain.

  13

  Hayley

  “Will you sit down? Stop pacing,” Hunter says patiently from where he’s sprawled out on my couch holding a bag of frozen baby peas against his rapidly swelling cheekbone.

  “I can’t stop pacing,” I argue. “Look at you! Look at what I did to your insanely gorgeous, unbelievably hazel eye!”

  “It’s fine,” he tells me with a warm smile, looking at me in a way that’s too amused for the situation we’re in. He’s so gorgeous, even with a bag of frozen produce resting on his face. It kinda makes me hate him a little. “I’ve had worse, Hayley.”

  “So? Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I say, my words laced with rapidly rising panic. “I don’t want to be the person who gave you something that you can compare to your ‘worse’ injuries. What kind of story is that?”

  “We met at a club where people were shooting at you. It’s exactly our kind of story.”

  That gets a smile out of me. He has a point.

  “This is my fault,” he begins, but I’m not about to let him finish that sentence.

  “I’m the one who—”

  “I was stupid and put my hands on you when you weren’t expecting it, and you did exactly what I taught you to do. It was amazing. This doesn’t bother me, so it shouldn’t bother you.”

  I let out a low groan, because even though he’s trying to let me off the hook, I can’t let myself off the hook.

  “What can I do to make it better?” I ask.

  He returns the question with a mischievous grin. “You can kiss it better if you want to.”

  I blush, but the corners of my lips lift up into a half smile.

  “Come here, please.”

  I do as he says and sit next to him on the couch.

  “It still hurts,” he teases. “I think you need to get a little closer.”

  I let out a huff of a laugh, because he’s pretty smooth when he wants to be. I move toward him, and impatient man that he is, he reaches out and slides his arm around my waist, tucking me into his side.

  “Is that better?” I ask.

  He nods, with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Much.” He turns his head and presses a kiss into my hair.

  “I was going to call you tonight,” I admit. “I’ve wanted to call you for a few days now.”

  “Why didn’t you?” he asks. There’s no judgment, only curiosity. “I’ve wanted you to call me ever since I dropped you off, but I didn’t want to pressure you, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to jump into anything you weren’t ready for. It killed me to drive away that day.”

  “Why were you here tonight?”

  He laughs. “I got tired of waiting.”

  “I didn’t call you because I wasn’t ready. Then the other night, I found your jacket in that duffel bag of clothes you gave me. I fell asleep in it, and Alexa found me the next morning. We had a chat about you, and she helped me see things more clearly.”

  “Why did you sleep in my jacket?” he asks, taking my hand. “Are you still having nightmares?”

  “No, just one. I didn’t mean to fall asleep in it, but I did put it on.” I look down at my hands, preemptively embarrassed about what I’m going to say next. “I like the way you smell. It smells like you.”

  Hunter pulls me close, rests his head on mine and takes a deep breath. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too. But that’s insane, right? We knew each other for, like…forty-eight hours. That’s nothing! We barely know each other, but in some ways I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

  He lifts his free hand and threads my fingers with his. “We definitely have a connection. I’m not trying to pressure you, but I want to be honest here. I want to see where this goes. Are you okay with that?”

  I push past the rush of nerves and say, “Yeah. I’m okay with that.”

  “Good,” he replies. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering what would’ve happened if I’d walked you to your door that night instead of driving away.”

  “Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t. It took me a while to come to terms with how I was feeling. Then? I might’ve panicked.”

  “If you start to get scared, let me know. We can work on that. But Hayley?”

  “Yeah?”

  Hunter puts the bag down and tilts my chin up so I’m looking him in the eye. “I’m not Carson. I’d never hurt you on purpose,” he says solemnly, like a vow.

  I place my hand on his cheek. “I know you wouldn’t. I know that.” I push myself up and give him a long, lingering kiss, the two of us just breathing each other in. “I’ve missed this,” I tell him, then kiss him again, just because I can.

  “Seems like we’re off to a good start,” he says, smiling.

  “Except for the part where I gave you a black eye.” Tenderly, I run my fingers across his swollen flesh, wishing I could heal this with my touch. Hunter doesn’t flinch, just lets me do what I need to.

  “If someone’s gonna give me a black eye, I’d rather it be you.” He’s grinning like a fool, and our next kiss is a little too toothy, but I’m too happy to care. I’m taking a chance for the first time in a while, and it feels amazing.

  Hunter leans back and takes a good look at my apartment. “This place looks like you.”

  “What does that mean?” I’m just happy I managed to keep the place clean for the past few days. It would’ve been mortifying if he’d come up and found my panties hanging on a doorknob or something.

  “Light and sunny. You have a ton of books…I knew you would. There are pictures everywhere. It’s friendly. It reminds me of you.”

  I can’t think of a better way to have someone like Hunter describe me.

  “Is it okay if I look around?” he asks.

  “You let me look around your place, it’s only fair if I return the favor.”

  I take the peas and drop them in the sink as Hunter looks around my apartment. It’s unnerving having someone examine my things like this; I admire Hunter for letting me do it when we’d only just met. He takes his time, reading the spines of my books, examining my photographs, reminding me to water my plants.

  “You don’t have a TV in here,” he notices.

  “I moved it into the bedroom during my sad binge-watching phase where Netflix was my boyfriend.”

  Hunter looks mock offended. “If we’re gonna do this thing, you two have to break up.”

  “Already done. We broke up when I got back from the cabin, I just haven’t gotten around to putting it back where it belongs.”

  “Where’s your bedroom?” he asks.

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you asking that because you want to move the television, or…”

  He places his right hand on his chest. “I’m not trying to trick you into getting naked, promise. Unless you want to get naked. In that case I’m all for it. I won’t ever turn down nakedness, by the way. That’s something you should know about me.”

  “Good to know,” I reply.

  “But in this case, I’m offering to bring your TV out here and reconnect your cable.”

  I take his hand in mine. “C’mon.”

  14

  Hunter

  When I woke up this morning, I didn’t think I’d end the day with a throbbing black eye and a very naked, very happy Hayley wrapped up in my arms. Her head is on my chest, her long hair fanned out across my bicep, and she’s tracing lazy, nonsensical patterns along my ribcage.

  I could stay just like this forever.

  The television has been moved back to the living room where it belongs, because I plan on giving her all the entertainment she needs in here from now on, for as long as she’ll have me.

  “Is ‘let me reconnect your cable’
code for sex now?” she asks, before playfully dragging her lips across my chest.

  “Hey,” I reply with a laugh. “I did actually reconnect your cable.”

  “Three times.” She looks up at me, her eyes heavy-lidded and her hair a sexy mess, and clearly a fan of euphemisms.

  “You came three times? I only counted two.” Next time I’ll aim for four, but this time we were frantic and not too worried about taking our time.

  “Mmmm.” She nods, laying her head back down on my shoulder and sliding her warm hand around my waist. “There was a third one right after two.”

  I’m grinning even though I’m trying hard not to.

  “You don’t have to look so smug.”

  “Get used to it,” I tell her, curling a strand of her hair around my index finger.

  “Get used to what? Coming three times, or you being smug?”

  “Both, because one will happen right after the other.”

  She laughs. It’s gorgeous.

  I turn my head and notice a frilly album propped up against her lamp on her nightstand. “What’s that?”

  “A photo album from the volleyball team in college.”

  “May I?”

  She nods.

  I flip through, anxious to get a glimpse of her life before I knew her. There are lots of shots of Hayley in action, diving for the ball, jumping into the net. Quite a few of her and her teammates traveling for competitions, hoisting up trophies on podiums. I’m especially interested in the pictures of her in her uniform.

  I point at a photo and ask, “Do you still have these shorts?”

  She laughs and rolls over, resting her chin on my chest. “Maybe, why? Are you into role playing?”

  “I’m into you in this uniform,” I say, sliding my hand down the small of her back, then lower. “It makes your ass look amazing. Not that it doesn’t already.”

  “Good boyfriend answer,” she replies. “Not that you didn’t show ample appreciation for my ass earlier.”

  I laugh, but her eyes grow wide with panic. “Oh god, was that too soon?”

  “Too soon for what?” I’m totally confused.

  “I called you my boyfriend. Kinda. I implied that you’re my boyfriend.”

  I smile, then pull her closer for a kiss. We get carried away for a while, and she pulls away from me before I’m ready for her to go.

  “It’s nice having you here,” she says, relaxing against my side.

  “It’s nice being here.” I slide my fingertips up and down her arms, enjoying the feel of her skin against mine. “I have a confession to make.”

  Hayley tenses, just for a second. “What is it?”

  “I saw you walking down the street last week,” I admit.

  “You did?” She turns toward me and runs the backs of her fingers along my jawline. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I was trying to give you your space. I actually walk by your building a lot. I live only about three blocks away from here.”

  “You do?” she asks, her eyes wide. “Since when?”

  “I do.” I give her a soft kiss. “It was my first apartment in D.C.”

  “Wow,” she sighs. “That’s convenient.”

  “Yeah, I look forward to making that walk frequently.”

  She grins and nuzzles into my neck. “Even though you don’t have far to go, will you stay tonight?”

  “Have you been having nightmares?”

  She shakes her head. “No. I just sleep better with you than I do without you.”

  “Okay,” I reply, reaching over and turning out the light. “I’ll stay.”

  Epilogue

  Hunter does this on purpose, I know he does. We’ve been together long enough that he knows what gets me going, knows just how to push my buttons.

  I’ve been nagging him to paint the cabin for months now, and he waited until the hottest day of the year to do it, because he knows that seeing him in a sweaty white T-shirt just does things to me. He checked off this item on his to-do list just in time, because our wedding’s in two weeks. Even for a small backyard ceremony, there’s a lot we need to take care of.

  “Here,” I say, as I hand him a glass of iced tea. “I thought you could use this.”

  Hunter’s sprawled out on a lawn chair in paint-spattered jeans and that damned T-shirt, looking good enough to eat. He grabs the hem of his shirt and wipes his face with it, which shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

  He takes the glass of tea in one hand, then wraps the other around my waist and pulls me onto his lap.

  “Thanks,” he says, nuzzling my neck with his still-sweaty head, which makes me squeal. He laughs against my neck—his warm breath cooling the sweat on my skin—and kisses me there.

  “You need to take off this shirt or you’re gonna get weird tan lines.”

  He looks down at it and shrugs. “What does it matter if I have weird tan lines? I’m going to be wearing a suit. And we’re going to Bali on our honeymoon, which is a place where I plan on getting a tan. And not wearing a shirt.” He moves his head just so slightly upward and sucks on that spot below my ear that drives me crazy. “I plan on not wearing much of anything, really.”

  “Mmmm,” I hum dreamily, running my fingers through his damp hair. “Bali. It’s really hot out here; you should come in soon. You can take a shower, and then I can help you get dirty again.”

  Hunter raises his brow, then gives me a smile. “I’m almost done.”

  “I wish we’d put central air on our wedding registry,” I tease.

  “The window unit acting up again?”

  “Yeah. I just want to cool off.”

  “I think I know what will help,” he says with a grin and a mischievous glint in his eye that I’ve learned by now is completely untrustworthy. He sets his glass of tea on the ground.

  “What are you gonna do?”

  Hunter moves quickly, wrapping me up in his arms and jumping out of the lawn chair. I trust him with my life, so I wrap my arms around his neck and laugh as he runs across the pier and flings us both into the water.

  “You jerk!” I laugh when we surface. “This is my favorite shirt.”

  He looks so pleased with himself that I can’t be mad at him, but I do splash him with a handful of water. Instead of flinching, he just grabs my hand and pulls me close until I can wrap my arms and legs around him.

  “You love me,” he says.

  “Enough to marry you, I guess.”

  “I can’t wait.” He moves in for a kiss, but I can’t stand the lake water, so I give him my cheek instead. “Is it too early for a wedding present?”

  We’ve been down this road before. “I’m not having sex with you in this lake, I don’t care if we’re getting married or not.”

  Hunter laughs. “Not a present for me, a present for you.”

  “Oh.” I perk up. “In that case it’s never too early.”

  “I’ve been watching that movie you love.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Which one?”

  “Dirty Dancing?”

  “Okay,” I reply, drawing out the word. I’m really not sure where he’s going with this.

  “Do you remember what you told me the first time you came down here?”

  I close my eyes, pulling from the deep, dark recesses of my terrible memory and draw a blank. Which is distressing, because clearly whatever I said to him made enough of an impact for him to want to do something about it.

  “You said you thought the lift was—”

  “Peak romance!” I’m so excited I remembered that I cut him off.

  “Right,” he says, coming in for a kiss. This time I let him have one.

  “I thought that was peak romance before I met you, babe. You left that in the dust a long time ago.”

  “You don’t want to learn how to do the lift?”

  It could be fun. A wet Hunter is always a good time. “Maybe after the wedding? I don’t want you to throw your back out or something. We need that for very important things in t
he coming weeks.”

  Hunter gives me the dirtiest grin. “I have a very strong back.”

  “Mmmm-hmmm,” I hum against his lips. “Very strong.”

  “Well,” he sighs. “That was my plan for this afternoon. Now what do you want to do?”

  “Take me inside,” I tell him. “All I want is you.”

  About the Author

  Cassie Cross is a Maryland native and a romantic at heart, who lives outside of Baltimore with her two dogs and a closet full of shoes. Cassie's fondness for swoon-worthy men and strong women are the inspiration for most of her stories, and when she's not busy writing a book, you’ll probably find her eating takeout and indulging in her love of 80's sitcoms.

  Cassie loves hearing from her readers, so please follow her on Twitter or leave a review for this book on the site you purchased it from. Thank you!

  www.cassiecross.com

  cassiecrosswrites@gmail.com