On the Way Down

Chapter Fifteen

If I could stop the world from turning and the hours from passing, and if I could keep dusk from becoming daylight again, I would do it and stay in this night forever.

My emotions are still bigger than I am after the concert is over and the quartet leaves the stage. They threaten to carry me away like a hot air balloon the entire time Phoenix and I stroll along the boardwalk and through the parking lot. His hold on my hand is all that tethers me to the ground. The present drifts and fades and returns during the ride home, especially when "Thinking Out Loud" has its turn on the playlist.

When we park outside of my building and Phoenix helps me out of the vehicle, and when he walks me inside and to my door with his hand against the small of my back, all sense of time seems to collapse. Twenty-three-year-old me takes over before thirty-year-old me can second-guess myself or consider how the question might sound.

"Do you want to come in?"

His eyes search mine, as if looking for clues about what my words mean. Seven years ago, a night like this would have ended with us together at my place or his, a trail of discarded clothing leading to the bedroom. A kiss here, a caress there, tongue against tongue leading to skin against skin, leading to his hands and mouth exploring my most sensitive spots. My growing need for him, the frantic fumbling for a condom, and the sweet ecstasy of what came next. Time slipping away and somehow ceasing to exist at all.

But before then, before our relationship became intimate in that way, our date would have ended outside of my door with a kiss and a promise of him calling me tomorrow, which he always did. Or, at the point just past that, him coming inside and making out with me for a while, as we progressed to the more serious relationship we later had. I don't know which version of us I'm asking for now, or what my words mean. I'm just not ready to say goodnight.

"If you aren't tired of me yet," Phoenix answers, his gaze still locked with mine. His mouth quirks up in a smile that shines through in his eyes and lets me know his reply is more teasing than it is self-deprecating.

"Yeah, good point." I scrunch up my nose as I open the door, but then grin at him to let him know I'm kidding. "I'm not, for the record."

He follows me inside. The door clicks shut, and the sound sends a flutter of anticipation coursing through me. There's something about being behind a closed door with him that heightens the energy of the room. It could be the sweet perfume of the roses he sent me lingering in the air, or my larger-than-life feelings clamoring for release. Whatever it is makes me want to crash my lips against his and see where it takes us.

Phoenix opts for a more chaste approach, touching my shoulder first, then brushing his fingers along my cheek. "Kick me out when you are." He kisses the tip of my nose.

"And if I don't kick you out?" I wind my arms around his neck and peer into his eyes again.

"Then you might be stuck with me." His lips graze over mine, but he doesn't kiss me. No, this is a slow dance of close-but-not-quite, as his hands find the curve of my waist and he pulls me closer to him.

"Only until you go back to Vegas tomorrow." I run my fingers up the nape of his neck and through his hair.

"Shhh. Don't remind me."

He places his index finger against my mouth, as if he really doesn't want the reminder of his upcoming departure and drive. It's instinct for me to kiss his finger, but what seems innocent enough in my mind causes him to suck in his breath and hold it for a moment. For once, his expressive eyes work in my favor, because they reveal what his self-restraint doesn't. I'm not the only one with colossal emotions going on.

I tilt my head up. His finger slips away, allowing me to bring my mouth to his. This time, his lips do what I want them to, pliant against mine, parting, inviting me in. A switch flips in me somewhere, because now there's nothing else in the world outside of him and me, and all I want to do is taste him.