Second Chance Summer (Chance #1)(31)
Author: Emma Hart

The tiny white room is accented by a bright red floral theme. It’s so different to the hallway it almost takes a minute for my eyes to adjust. I change quickly into a tank top and shorts and brush my teeth in the oversized mirror before heading back to the bedroom.

I push open the door and cross the room, nudging the covers aside so I can climb into bed next to Reese. My stomach flutters even though it’s not the first time we’ve shared a bed, and secretly, I hope I get butterflies every time I slip into a bed with him.

Reese looks down at me, smiling lopsidedly. I gaze up at him, and my lips curve upwards a little. He drops his head from its resting position on his hand and touches his lips to mine, his hand creeping across my stomach to my back and under my shirt.

He holds me to him, and I grip his arm, digging my fingers in. His tongue runs along the seam of my lips, and I open to him, letting him slip inside. Our tongues mingle together, and oddly, he tastes like toothpaste.

My body pushes against his as I strive to get closer to him. My leg slides between his knees, and I can feel him harden against my thigh. His hands hold me flush against him, and my fingers move up to tangle in his hair. I wriggle slightly. A groan escapes his lips, and I feel it rumble through my body.

“Kia,” he mutters, kissing along my jaw. My breathing picks up speed at the husky tone in his voice. My heart pounds and my lower stomach muscles clench as he slips a hand under my head, tilting it back. His lips make their way down my neck to my collarbone. Reese dips his tongue into the indent there, sucking lightly on my skin. I gasp, tightening my entire body as each little tug of his mouth against my skin sends tremors through me. My back arches when he kisses along my shoulder, but they gradually peter out.

“Why did you stop?” I whisper, looking at him uncertainly as he lays his head next to mine.

“Because after tonight,” he whispers back. “You should just be held.”

I rake my fingers through his hair. “I want it, Reese.”

“You think I don’t, baby? You think I don’t wanna flip you onto your back, rip those clothes off of you, and sink myself so far into you we’ll forget where I end and you begin?” I swallow, my eyes widening. “Because I do. I want to kiss every inch of your skin. I want to feel your muscles tighten as you come and then I want to taste every bit of it. But not tonight. Tonight isn’t about any of that – it’s about me holding you so tightly you’ll wake up tomorrow morning believing I’m never gonna let go.”

He kisses me softly, and I slide my arms down and around his back. My cheek rests against his shoulder and his against the top of my head. His fingers comb through my hair, soothing me, and I let my eyes close.

~

I wake to the smell of pancakes. Pancakes?

I roll over, stretching, and remember where I am. I’m not in Harlan Grove. I’m in Fort Raine, in Reese’s aunt’s beach house. No Mom, no Dad. No lies, no pain.

Just Reese.

I climb out of bed and run my fingers through my hair in a half-hearted attempt at brushing it. I make my way to the stairs and pad down them, my bare feet silent against the polished wood surface. When I reach the bottom I look around, searching for the kitchen. My nose leads me – the smell of chocolate and blueberries combined with the pancakes too intoxicating to ignore.

I lean against the kitchen doorframe, and a smile creeps onto my lips at the sight before me. Reese is standing in front of the cooker, shirtless, with his jeans hanging low on his hips. My eyes trawl up his back to his tattoo, and I follow the outline of it until I reach his face. He’s frowning a little and his lips purse as he reaches to the side.

“Shit!” he mutters, dropping chocolate chips all over the floor.

I laugh, covering my mouth with my hand. He jumps and turns to me. His face breaks into a grin.

“How long have you been there?” he asks, bending down and sweeping them up.

“Long enough,” I tease, looking at the floor. “What did the chocolate chips ever do to you?”

“Oh, ha ha.” He laughs. “I didn’t grab the packet properly, all right?”

I smile, walking over to him. Three plates are on the kitchen side, steaming. Two have both blueberry and chocolate chip pancakes on, and the other holds some that look a bit…

“They’re a bit burnt.” I poke the charred mess.

“They were my first attempt.” He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh at himself. “Shit, I’m a mechanic, Kia, not a chef.”

I smile up at him. “Apparently not. Where did you get all this stuff?”

“I went to the store early. I wanted to make your favorite breakfast.”

“How do you know my favorite hasn’t changed?”

“Because you can’t keep your eyes off the pancakes.” He laughs again, reaching around me for the plates. He kisses the corner of my mouth, picks them up and turns. I spin, watching him set them on the table.

“Okay, you win.” I sit down on the chair he pulls out for me. “They are my favorite.”

“I know.” He smiles a little, sitting opposite me. “Whenever we went to the diner after we’d been out all night, you always ordered these.”

“Hm.” I smile, tilting my head to the side. “So I did.”

Reese winks, shoveling a mouthful of pancake in his mouth. I put a smaller piece in mine and choke it down. Reese is looking at his plate with his eyes squinted, and his lips turned up in disgust. He chews slowly, and I’d imagine I look exactly the same as he does.

“They’re f**kin’ terrible.” He puts his fork down and looks at me.

“How do you mess up pancakes?” I ask, fighting the laughter bubbling up inside me.

“I… Have no idea.” He shakes his head absently. I can’t help it. The laughter bursts out of me, and I giggle uncontrollably into my hands. It’s the look on his face – the furrow in his brow, the slight pout of his lips as he stares at the pancakes – that does it for me.

I push the plate away, leaning forward. Reese kicks me under the table.

“Don’t laugh!” he says, and it sounds like he’s fighting his own laughter.

“I’m sorry.” I look up, and he’s smiling.

“No you’re not.”

“You’re right. I’m not.” I giggle again.

Reese sighs, pushing his plate away. “I guess we’re eating out, huh?”

“Looks that way.” I get up. “I’ll go get ready shall I?” I make to leave the room, and I hear the chair scrape. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me back against him.