A half smile pulled at his lips. “Good.”
“Do you think she’ll call the cops?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Chrissie? Can you imagine? Officer, I’d like to report a stained dress.”
For the first time since she’d gotten that phone call, Van felt like laughing. “I don’t get why she hates me so much. I know I hit her when we were in school, but that was years ago. What the hell did I do to deserve all that anger?”
“She hates you because you’re real,” Tanner told her, his jaw tight as he stared down at her. “Because you’re stronger, cleverer, and more beautiful than she is.” He lowered his head until his brow touched hers. He was close, so close, and he took her breath away. “You’re worth ten of her. You always were.”
His words felt like a beautiful pointed knife. Cutting her in two, but in such a pleasurable way. “Tanner…” she breathed, feeling the old familiar need engulfing her.
“Shh. Don’t say another word.” She could feel the warm air of his breath.
“But…”
He put his finger on her lips, and she tried to swallow down a smile. She used to drive him crazy with her talking. But that’s how she always thought. Out loud.
“Let me have this moment. I just want to look at you.” He slid his nose against hers until his lips were a sigh away from her mouth. She waited, swallowing down all the words she wanted to say.
Why was he looking at her that way? What did it mean?
And why did it feel so right after all this time of hating him?
“It was always you,” he whispered. “Always.” He slid his hands down the curve of her spine, pressing her against him until she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began. But still he didn’t kiss her. She could see his eyelashes fluttering as his gaze took her in.
It was always you. Her body hummed with the truth of those words. No matter how much she tried to fight it, he’d always been there. In her failed relationships, in her career triumphs, behind her eyelids when she tried to sleep at night.
It was always Tanner she saw, with his crooked smile and warm eyes, and his total belief in her.
“The way you look at me,” he whispered. “God, Van.”
All her words were gone. Caught in her chest that was squeezed so tight it was a surprise she could even breathe.
It was always him. Yes it was. And no matter how much she fought that, she would always lose.
His hands tightened around her, his fingers digging into her back. “You make my heart race like nothing and no one else,” he told her, closing his eyes and breathing her in.
Softly, slowly, he brushed his lips against hers, making her body sing in delight. Sliding his hand to cup the back of her head, he deepened the kiss, his lips needy and demanding, his tongue sliding against hers until they were both aching and breathless.
She looped her hands around his neck, rolling onto the balls of her feet to get closer. He walked forward, maneuvering her until the backs of her knees hit the soft surface of her mattress. Without conscious thought, they bent, until she was laying on the bed, Tanner’s strong, long body hovering over hers.
Not once did they break the kiss.
She wasn’t sure it was possible. Having his lips on hers felt as essential as breathing. He filled her up, emotions shooting through her chest, her stomach, her thighs.
When he finally pulled back, he looked as dazed as she felt. His eyes were bright, almost manic, his lips reddened by the friction they’d created. His hair was a glorious mess thanks to her demanding fingers, pointing this way and that. The same way it had when they were kids and he hadn’t learned to tame it.
She reached up to press the craziest of his locks down. His eyes scanned her face, as though he was looking for the answer to a question he hadn’t asked. She felt a jolt of electricity, along with the strangest emotion he’d brought out in her today.
Humor. God, this felt funny. Kissing Tanner Hartson after all these years. She tried to bite down the laughter, but it kept rising up, curling her lips and making her eyes crinkle.
“Are you laughing at me?” He pretended to frown.
She bit her lips together. “No.”
He grinned and slid his nose against hers again. She didn’t know what it was about that move, but it did something to her. Made every muscle in her body contract with the need for him.
“I think you are,” he whispered, tracing a line with his finger across the bottom of her throat. “I think you find me funny.”