Heat Wave
Page 5
We collapse together, or rather, he collapses on top of me and I release a great oof.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, but doesn’t move.
I worry he’s fallen asleep and I’ll suffocate to death when he finally lifts his head with a lazy smile.
“Oh good, I thought you’d died on top of me.”
“Not gonna die any time soon now that you’ve said you love me.”
His kiss spears into me, knocking holes in all the tightly wound, unnecessary boundaries my solitary nature created over the years. It feels like freedom.
We don’t stay on the couch for long. I take a moment in the bathroom, cleaning up after a long night of making love—the term brings a goofy smile to my face—and we throw the cats out of the bedroom, food, litter box and all.
“They’ll tear your furniture apart.”
“Don’t care.”
“Might go for your herb garden.”
“Even those crazy jumpers can’t reach it.”
Ben cracks a window to let some air in, his living room window unit blocked out with the door closed, and we curl up in bed with only the sheet to cover us. The heat of the day still lingers, but a cool breeze has finally slunk in and is filtering through the room. The Bay Area was ill, sick with a high fever, and now the fever has broken and my new home is finally healing.
“Set your alarm for six so I can shower and get ready for work on time.”
“We commuting together tomorrow?” he asks, a little uncertain.
I lay his concern to rest with a smoldering kiss.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Ben lies on his back and pulls me to pillow my head on his chest. Our eyes are closed, but neither of us are sleeping, his breathing too irregular.
“Why do you love me?” I ask, the question burning in my mind since he said the words.
“The same reason you love me, I suspect.”
“And what’s that?”
“I’m, like, totally awesome.”
I snort, and he kisses my laughter, transforming it into a tender grin. Then he breaks the rest of my barriers down with words woven from the depths of his soul.
“I love you because you’re the best woman I’ve ever known. You’re honest and so fucking brave. You’re not afraid of me, never were, and you have the biggest heart. All throughout tonight you kept blaming yourself for being selfish, when you were just coming to terms with your own fears. But you kept worrying about me, despite your anxieties. No one has ever listened as well as you, or made me feel as complete as you do. I promise I will never give up on you, even when you lose your words and we misunderstand each other, I will never forget how much you mean to me. I will never take you for granted. I love you, Faye.”
I kiss him then, telling him why I love him without words, just our own language, born in a heat wave.
Epilogue
Keep Hydrated
“Temperatures have cooled but the heat wave persists. Don’t forget that sunscreen, and commuters beware, BART is riddled with delays due to passengers fainting in overheated train cars. Stay cool, folks.”
Heeding the weatherman’s warning, I decide to take the bus into work instead. Should I let Ben know? It’s twenty minutes before we’d usually meet. I decide to be brave and send him a text.
Leaving early to catch the bus.
No response.
We slept until the alarms went off at six. We kissed, he mumbled he’d see me later, said not to worry about the cats, and then I dressed and left to get ready for work.
That’s it, the epic finale to our transient night. We created our own bubble, ignoring the world and living in the moment.
So what next?
When the harsh light of day hits it’s hard to ignore the cracks the light reveals. Maybe he’ll catch my faults in a beam and won’t like what he sees. Maybe he’ll forget the language we created, so sweet yet bold, powerful and tender.
I gather my purse, make sure all the lights are off then grab my keys and step outside. The heat is nowhere near as bad as the weekend had been, but it still hits me like a brick wall. I close my door, locking the bottom lock first, and then linger at the top.
I look at his door, waiting. He’s not coming. He’s probably sleeping in, decided to skip work. Not that I’ve ever known him to do that.
I turn the key then pull it out slowly, making a racket.
Still nothing.
I sigh, turning toward the stairs to head out. If I wait any longer I’ll miss the bus and will end up late. My boots hit the stone steps loudly, each thunk seeming to yell how annoyed and depressed his absence has made me. I reach the front gate and just as I open it wide, I hear a door slam and shoes tripping down two flights of stairs.
I wait, my heart in my throat.
He comes around the corner, two coffee canteens in his hands.
“I only just saw your text, I was still asleep.”
He hands me a mug and kisses me, a mix of minty freshness and coffee on his tongue, and I taste all of it through the long, deep kiss he gives me.
“I wanted to make us coffee since I knew we wouldn’t have time to stop at the corner store. We’ve got to stay hydrated in this heat.” He quirks his head at me when I don’t answer, too amazed that he’s actually here—and that he made me coffee—for words. I can’t speak again, but this time I’m not worried about what he’ll think.
“Want to go, love? We can hold hands while we walk, like a typical couple.”
He winks, but I see through his patent savoir faire and charm to the true meaning, the one I decipher from our language.
Breathless anticipation at the prospect of being a typical couple.
We walk out the gate together, our hands entwined.
No other offer could have enticed me better.
* * * * *
Stay cool out there.
Acknowledgments
I could not have written this book without the support of my friends and family. Thank you for believing in me. I’d also like to thank my editor, Stephanie, and everyone at Carina Press for this opportunity. I connected with this line instantly and am so grateful to you for giving me the chance to bring this story to life. Lastly I want to thank the 2017 Bay Area heat wave that became my muse. Although it did not end in sexy times for me, it resulted in fevered inspiration.
About the Author
Ceri is the author of quirky and sexy contemporary romance novels. She goes equally weak in the knees for sappy cuddle moments and hot and steamy sex scenes. When writing, she searches for the flawed characters with big hearts, the sarcastic ones, unafraid to be awkward and uncouth.
Ceri is a New York native living in California with her two cats: Mercy and Eugene Fitzherbert, who should be very thankful she didn't name him Frying Pan. She is a proud functioning introvert and lover of all things geeky. You can find her haunting Twitter, posting pictures of her ridiculous cats on Instagram or chatting about food on Facebook.
For exclusive content, sneak peeks and free reads, sign up for Ceri’s newsletter. She’ll keep you updated on new releases, deleted scenes from her books and the general shenanigans in her life.
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ISBN-13: 9781488099489
Heat Wave
Copyright © 2018 by Alaina Parness
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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