Inspire (The Muse #1)(38)
Author: Cora Carmack

“You want some coffee?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”

“Water? Soda? Food?”

“No, Wilder. I’m fine. I promise.”

Okay then. I focus my attention on Gwen, who has pressed herself a little closer to Kalli’s side. In a moment, she’ll likely be sprawled across her lap if I don’t do something.

“Okay squirt. Time for you to go back to bed. It’s way too late for you.”

Immediately, she starts to whine. “Can I stay up just a little while with you and Kalli? Please, please, please?” When I don’t answer, she rises up on her knees on the couch and continues, “Please, please, please?”

“Gwen.” I sigh. God, I’m so bad at saying no to her. I glance at Kalli, and she’s holding in a laugh. “ Do you mind?”

She shakes her head quickly. “Not at all.”

“Okay. You can stay up a little while longer. But you have to sit on the couch and be calm. If you don’t settle down, you’ll never get back to sleep. How about I put on a movie and you can watch a little of that before bed?”

And that’s how I end up watching Frozen, drunk, in the middle of the night with my little sister and the girl I’m infatuated with. Because once again … I don’t know how to tell her no.

I start the Disney movie, and then flip the living room lights off. The hallway light keeps it from being too dark. I hit play on the DVD remote, and while the movie begins, I pop into the kitchen and empty the last of the coffee into my mug. I’m rinsing the pot out in the sink when I feel a hand low on my back. I turn, expecting it to be Gwen, but it’s Kalli. Her hand lingers, and the visceral attraction I feel for her comes back with a vengeance. She says something, but my eyes are stuck on the movement of her lips, the way they curve and purse, the tiny peek of her tongue when she enunciates something.

And I have to kiss her. The urge comes on so strong that I don’t have any time to stifle it. I curve my hand around her neck, and pull her forward, stopping her mouth mid-sentence. She laughs against my mouth, but when I coax her lips open with my tongue, she moans. Her fingers grapple against my chest, pulling the fabric into her fists.

The lightness in my head that came from the alcohol amplifies into something so buoyant, so electric that it doesn’t feel real. It occurs to me then that I could be dreaming. Maybe Christmas hasn’t even happened yet. Or maybe I passed out at Lennox’s place, and this is my brain reacting to my own subconscious desires. My hesitation gives her the chance to break away.

With her hands still fisted in my shirt, she turns her head to the side, and laughs softly under her breath. Those few short chuckles give way to a long sigh, and she leans in until her forehead rests against my chest. I wonder if she can feel the way my heart is booming beneath her.

“Sorry,” I murmur, my voice a low rumble. She loosens her grip, and then smoothes down the parts of my shirt she’d pulled on. Her hands run over my chest, and it sends a shock of need through my system. I know if I don’t get us back into the living room with my sister, I’m going to lift her up on the kitchen counter, and get the taste I’m dying for. “What were you saying? I got a little distracted by your mouth.”

She pulls back, tilting her head up to look at me through long lashes. “Your sister is cold. I was asking where I could find a blanket.”

I graze my knuckles over her cheek, marveling at how soft her skin is. “I’ll grab a couple. You go get comfortable.” Before I let things get too comfortable in here.

She steps back, and I let my hand fall. She begins to turn, but then pauses. “I meant what I said outside. I am in this. But …” She swallows, and nerves knot in my throat, making it hard to swallow. “This is all new to me. And I want to do it right.”

My hands itch to reach for her, but I think the distance she put between us is purposeful.

“I want to do it right, too.”

She swallows, and stares down at the floor for a few moments before her gaze flicks back up to mine. She squares her shoulders like she’s about to face off against an enemy and tilts her chin up bravely.

“I think we should take things slowly. It’s not smart for me to just jump in head first. I know you said we couldn’t do this one moment at a time, but I need us to take small steps, to do this at a more normal speed.”

I do close the distance then, cupping her cheeks, and tilting her face up to mine. “That’s not what I meant when I said that. I just needed to know where you stood, that was all. I needed to know you were willing to give this a shot. But there’s no pressure here beyond that, I promise.” Shit. Maybe I’d gone too far in the kitchen at Lennox’s apartment. She was there, her skin under my hands, and I got carried away. Was it my own damn fault that she was so indecisive? She said she wasn’t the kind of girl to do a one-nighter, but maybe that night was even farther out of her wheelhouse than I imagined. “You set the pace,” I tell her. “As long as you’re here, that’s all I care about.”

Her eyes flutter closed, lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, and she presses her face a little harder into my palm. We head back into the living room together, and Gwen has already zoned in on the movie, shutting out the rest of the world. I lay my coffee on the end table, and grab two blankets out of the hallway closet.

Back at the couch, I squeeze into the space between Kalli and the armrest, then start unfolding one of the blankets. Before I even get it open, Gwen crawls over Kalli’s lap, and shoves herself between us, so that she’s resting partly on each of our laps. But that’s not good enough. Wordlessly, she continues wiggling until Kalli laughs and inches over enough that my little sister plops down between us.

Gwen grabs my unfolded blanket, pulling it up and over her, and my eyes connect with Kalli’s above her head. She’s not laughing anymore, but I can still see it on her face. Her eyes are bright in the dim room, and I lay my arm across the back of the couch. Gwen is small enough that I can still wrap my arm around Kalli, even with her between us. And while my sister focuses back on the cartoon, we stay staring at each other.

And something happens in me. Bigger than the night we spent together, or our talk in the kitchen, or even than our moment on the porch. I don’t know how to describe it except to say that it feels … simple. Like finally finding the right fit for a puzzle piece after spending too long trying to cram it into a space that wasn’t quite right.