Spiraled ⚪⭐⚪⭐ (A Brollins Novel)✔

EPISODE EIGHTEEN

Quinn's Mansion. Los Angeles, California.

Expecting her heart to cease hammering in her chest anytime soon is an impossibility. Her heart feels as if it's about to fly out of her chest and when she tries to speak, her voice is choked up with so many different emotions at once that she's left frighteningly breathless despite having not uttered a single word. Colby's state mirrors hers, the only thing he seem capable of doing is smiling and gazing into her eyes. The beat of his heart echoing faintly in her ears and thrumming wildly under her palm when she presses a hand above his clothed chest convey something much deeper and meaningful than the magical words he'd spoken mere seconds ago. The heart she'd longed for that morning, the heart she once thought will never be hers, now vibrate under her palm and unlike that morning, she's now certain, without a shred of doubt in her mind, that his heartbeat sing her name.

'"I think I'm falling in love with you, Rebecca.'" Reminiscing the tone of voice with which he had said those words--the genuine sincerity and love--sends a shiver down her spine, fills her with calm and peace, a sense of security and comfort. For it is hers now. The one thing she wants more than anything else she can ever wish from him. His heart. It belongs to her and hers belongs to him. But the joy flaring within her won't allow her to say that to him. The joy is so sharp that it steals her breath away and renders her body into a delightful, shaking mess.

She's only able to throw her head back with a buzzing laugh, filled with happiness and contentment as he settles his arms around her waist and pulls her away from the closet. Her neatly, ironed gown possibly getting all wrinkled up, is the farthest thing from her mind as he draws her flush tight against him. She concentrates on the heat of his body warming her through the clothes standing in their way of meeting skin to skin, his hard, muscular frame against her soft, supple one and his large, radiant smile which dissolves all her fears and anxiousness about the party tonight. He's all she ever needed tonight. All she ever needs to be able to survive through the ordeal of relieving what is possibly the worst phase in her life; Jeff. But she can go through it all because Colby is here. She doesn't know how he manages to make the simplest of moments feel special and romantic even without flowers or chocolates. Like now as they sway and twirl in slow, careful steps around the small room, her arms around his neck and both of his hands on her waist in what is the perfect, fluid dance on her birthday and perhaps the perfect birthday gift.

And as he spins her around, his hand in hers and the way he's looking at her, as if she's the only thing that matters and will ever matter in his world, she realizes that love should feel like the way her body tingle when he's near. Love should taste like his lips as she kisses him over and over with everything she has, everything she has to offer him. Love should make you want more, like the need she feels right now to give him more than just kisses and caresses, to be able to speak instead of panting and smiling once they finally pull away from the kiss, their ragged breaths mingling, making her feel hot and sweaty despite the air-conditioning in the room. She has love again. She has tasted it and she pray she won't lose it anytime soon.

As the delicious haze clears from her mind, she can now detect the soft, yet boring music in the air trickling inside her bedroom. Her head jerks upright, her ears perking up at the sound of violin playing and the loud chatter of the guests. She shuts her eyes and grunts in dismay. 'The party has started sooner than planned. So much for the hour and half Ashley claimed she has,' she berates, reluctantly letting her arms slacken around his neck to her sides, a somber look on her face. "I have to go."

She smiles a little at the adorable pout on his face. Clearly he doesn't want to let go of her anytime soon judging by his hands tightening around her waist. "What happened to an hour and a half," he asks, his hot breath dancing at the crook of her neck as his head dips down to kiss her collarbone.