"And if you have a minute, why don't we go talk about it somewhere only we know?"
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Maya Beaulieu, born and raised in Montreal, has heard the stories about Lance Stroll, the boy who grew up down the street of where she lived. All the reason to stay...
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𝙻𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎'𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚟
December 20th, Venice, Italy
I wake up from the pressure on my chest, my eyes shoot open, and my heart skips a beat like I am reliving the pressure from my crash last month.
Until I take in the view in front of me.
Maya has shifted positions, and now lays with her head on my chest, curled up against the entire side of my body. Her hair was in a messy bun with some wild strands here and there that escaped the grip of her hair tie.
She is beautiful.
I tuck a few loose strands behind her ear and smile. She is an absolute piece of art; her curls always seemed to be dancing around her face, her skin always seemed to glow, and her smile could light up the entire room.
Last night, she knew exactly what she was doing to me; she railed me up making me realize for sure that I want her over any other girl.
To hell with that bet. I craved her, and I folded hard when she was dancing with Daniel. The way she laughed at Daniel's jokes, and by then I knew that talking with Heidi wasn't going to make her jealous; Daniel probably told her that Heidi is his girlfriend.
And that would also mean, I shouldn't be jealous of Daniel dancing with Maya, but I was. Because I wanted to be the one dancing with her, feel her close to me, and see her smile up close.
I am still amazed by the way Maya's body reacts to my touch, and how it has been doing so ever since our first time. Every touch, every sensitive or seductive touch enlights a gasp or a moan. The way my name rolls off her tongue in the heat of the moment, the goosebumps over her entire body.
Or, how my term of endearment seems to push the right buttons. It wasn't even planned to give it a sexual ring to it, but seeing that it drives her wild in fury, which then again is extremely sexy, drives both of us wild.
Last night I told her I love her, but as a coward, I waited until she had fallen asleep. Just like, how the first time I told her in a cryptic sentence. I want to tell her, I want her to know, but I am also afraid. Afraid of her reaction, afraid she might not feel the same way.
"Good morning," She murmurs without moving her head, snapping me from my thoughts.
"Good morning," I whisper back, a bit flustered at how she knows I am awake.
"What are you thinking about?" She asks, lifting her head to look at me. The sleep was still etched on her face, her eyes squeezing slightly together to get used to the light. "Your heart is racing like crazy."
I chuckle and carefully cup her cheek, "I have my beautiful and very naked girlfriend on top of me. How can my heart not race?"
Maya laughs and drops her head back on my chest, "Shut up."
