Love Me One More Time by Laura Burton

Chapter 11

Carter’s words are like a key to the door I had bolted shut all this time. My self-control evaporates, and the tension between us erupts in a storm of kisses. I’m kissing his forehead, his temples, and the dimples on each cheek. Everywhere except his mouth.

Carter shrugs off his sequin jacket and my fingers find the smooth cotton collar of his shirt. I clutch it like it’s the only thing keeping me from drowning.

His hands roam through my curls. He presses his lips to my temples. Then he kisses my cheeks, and starts to follow the pattern of pecks I smothered him with. When he moves down to kiss my neck, he tugs on my hair, prompting a squeal from me.

Carter’s hot breath tickles my bare skin. His hands move to my shoulders, then he cups my face, and he finally pulls back to look into my eyes. There’s so much hunger in his gaze.

Neither of us has made the move to kiss on the mouth yet. It’s a line we’re not quite ready to cross. I half expect this to be another one of my vivid daydreams. But it’s not. Carter is really with me. I can feel his pulse through his wrists and I’m pressed against the heat of his body.

“Zoe,” Carter whispers. His eyes grow misty. “I’ve missed you.”

The words make my throat constrict.

I want so much to say it back, but finding my voice is an effort.

I’ve missed you too. I still miss him, even though he’s right here in front of me. I miss the wholeness of being in love with someone who loves you back. I miss moving through this life with a co-pilot; someone to hold my hair while I’m throwing up. Someone to go to the movies with. Someone to snuggle up to at night and talk about anything and nothing. Someone to just sit in contented silence with, watching true crime shows.

The sweet agony of having Carter’s hands on my face, and the memory of his absence in my life, sends a sound rushing out of my mouth that I’ve never made before.

It’s not quite a wail or a moan. It’s more like a mixt between a Chewbacca war cry and a dying cat. It’s definitely not a sexy sound.

Carter jerks back, confused.

“What was that?” he asks.

I cling to his wrists so he can’t move away. I can’t let him go. Not now. Not ever.

“Shh.” I take his hands and place them at my waist. “Come here.”

Now is not the time for jokes or embarrassment or second thoughts. Now is the time for action.

I reach up, put my hands around Carter’s neck and pull him in. I want to feel his body pressed up against mine. I need to.

When his chest makes contact with mine, there’s an explosion of butterflies in my stomach. I move my hands down so I can wrap them around his torso, then I cling to his back while I rest my head on his shoulder.

We stay like that for several minutes, and before long, our breaths are in sync. Carter’s body relaxes against mine and he strokes my hair, resting his chin on my head.

I love that he’s not rushing this. He’s just as happy to stay here in this bear hug for as long as it takes.

As Carter holds me, all of my emotional wounds rip open and start to bleed. The simultaneous pain and joy of holding the one that got away––the man I’ve cried over for the best part of a decade––is more intense than anything I’ve ever known.

I can’t decide if this is healing me or making things worse. But I can’t let go, just in case I fall to pieces without him holding me together.

“I’ve missed you too,” I mumble against his neck. The words tumble out of me and I sniff, blinking against the prickly sensation in my eyes. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Carter pulls back and lifts my head with one finger under my chin. The hunger in his eyes even more intense now. “I need to tell you something,” he says. His tone is far too serious and foreboding to suit the moment. We should go back to hugging, or dial up the heat and start kissing.

The only confession I’m interested in is his undying love for me.

“It wasn’t my mom’s idea to fake our engagement. Honestly, she’s not at all happy about the plan.”

This isn’t a revelation to me. The way Carter’s mom has been giving me the stink eye ever since we arrived says it all. I attempt a realistic sounding hum. “Oh, right.”

Carter finds my hands and squeezes. “I’ve been telling Grandma that we broke up for years. But for the past couple of weeks, she’s been asking about our wedding every time I call. Whenever I would remind that her we broke up, she would cry about it. I just couldn’t do it to her all weekend with the whole family around. Tomorrow is her eightieth birthday and I––”

“Just want your grandma to be happy. I get it, Carter.” I press my index finger to his pouty lips. “We’ve been through this already. I’m more than happy to be here.”

Carter nods and drops his gaze. “Right. Because of the social media storm.”

I drop my hand. “No.”

The word brings Carter’s eyes back to meet mine.

“No, Carter,” I say softly. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. Maybe it’s because I’m thirty now. It made me reflective for weeks, thinking about all the could-have-beens.”

Carter chuckles. “You make it sound like you’re an old lady.”

“I feel old,” I shoot back. “I packed so much into my life when you left it; it feels like I’ve lived a thousand lifetimes already.”

I’ve been working non-stop, sleeping less than six hours a day on a calorie deficit diet, and running on fumes and affirmations the entire time.

On reflection, I’m pretty sure what happened at the school was a long time coming.

There’s a term for what I’m going through; the news reports told the truth. It’s a word that makes the gurus of the wellness community shudder; one that no one wants to admit suffering from.

Burnout.

“Listen,” I say, forcing myself out of my head to prevent another downward spiral. “I think I’ve laughed more times today with you than I have in the last nine years altogether.”

Carter’s eyes shine as he caresses my cheeks. My heart flutters at the sight of his tongue. He slides it across his bottom lip for a split second before it disappears again.

“Me too,” he says.

There’s a beat where we just sit there in silence, looking at each other’s lips. Then a rush of heat rises to my head and I swear I can feel the Earth spinning on its axis. I’m suddenly aware of the fact that we’re just two tiny dots of life sitting on a spinning ball in the middle of space.

And with that kind of perspective, the rational, sensible side of my brain goes quiet. Who cares what kissing him on the mouth means? Who cares what happens one hour from now or one year from now?

All that matters is now. Rightnow.

Resolved, I make the move before I can talk myself out of it.

In fact, I move so fast, Carter makes a tiny yelp of surprise when our mouths make contact. Maybe he’s finally felt the electricity coursing through my body. Every time he touches me, I zing, and until now, it didn’t seem like I had the same effect on him.

When I taste his familiar peppermint lips, my toes curl and my eyes roll back with delight. Carter relaxes, and his hands find my waist again. His moans vibrate my lips so much, I have to force back a laugh.

But then he deepens the kiss, and I lose touch with my sense of humor.

The gentle caress of his tongue across my bottom lip sends a shock of tingles through me and I squeal.

Carter breaks away, panting. “Too much?” he asks. I frown, furious at him for pulling back. “No.”

I drag my hands through his thick hair and we nuzzle noses. With another moan, Carter lifts me up onto his lap. He can’t decide what to do with his hands. They roam my back, squeeze my thighs, grip the back of my shoulders… Then he drags them through my hair before he settles them on my waist. It’s as though he’s confirming that I’m real.

I hitch my dress up and spread my legs. Then I find his hands and interlock his fingers with mine.

For some reason, kissing him while I hold his hands is even more intimate than when he was just touching my body.

We switch sides and keep things slow; controlled and explorative.

Every kiss and brush of his fingertips against my skin sends a flood of love through me; a quiet yet powerful force that captures my heart like an invisible hand and squeezes so hard, it takes my breath away.

The light touch of his lips on mine does something to my soul. My heart feels like a patchwork quilt, and his kisses are filling in the missing squares.

Everything feels familiar, but at the same time, entirely new.

Now Carter rises to a stand, lifting me effortlessly. I wrap my legs around his waist and Carter doesn’t stop kissing me as he walks us across the room.

I have no idea where the heck he’s taking me, but he could walk us back to the party and stand me in front of all his family, and I wouldn’t stop kissing him.

We’ve reached a wall. I sense it before my back thumps against it. Carter takes my hands and holds them against the wall above my head. It’s a move I remember from when we were together. It drove me wild back then, and it does the same to me now. Carter pulls back to look at me, and I take the opportunity to regain my breath. The look in Carter’s eyes is almost primal. I can’t tell if he wants to devour me or destroy the world for me.

With my hands pinned against the wall, and my legs still wrapped around his waist, all I can do is lean forward and kiss him again. When I do, his hands fall and he cradles my face again.

Now he moves with tenderness, pressing his heated lips against mine, then my cheeks, and my jawline. When he nibbles on my earlobe, I take in a deep, contented breath.

To anyone who might happen to see us, this would look scandalous. But to me, it’s as beautiful and innocent as splashing in the ocean.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and we stop kissing to give each other the tightest hug. “Oh, ZoBo. I do love you,” Carter says, his voice muffled by my hair.

Fireworks light up the darkest corners of my mind.

I’m home.