I don’t know how long we kissed on that dance floor or when the music stopped. But everyone is retreating toward the hotel now, their laughter dying down.
Our friends have gone on ahead of us, but Kate remains firmly within my grasp. As I let her go, her hand finds mine. She laces our fingers together the way I did earlier, gripping tightly.
Very slowly, we begin to walk back toward the hotel, more so meandering naturally rather than in a straight line. I can still feel her kiss on my lips, still feel the warmth of her flesh in my palms. I don’t want this night to end, not yet. Silence looms, neither one of us wanting to break it to meet rejection on the other end.
I don’t want to ask, but I will. The broken heart needs to make the first move. She needs to decide, to choose.
We’re nearly at the door and no one has spoken a word. We’re moments from needing to split off in different directions, and I’m using every Jedi mind trick I know to get her to speak.
“Do you have plans tomorrow?” She asks, her sweet voice cutting through the deafening silence. It’s not the words I want, but it’s the words I’ll take.
“I don’t think so,” I say. “I guess the guys could have something planned that I’m not aware of. You?”
“I’m sure the girls do, too,” she says. “Although, after tonight, maybe they’ve all planned something together.”
“I think that’s very possible,” I say, letting out a small laugh.
As we edge toward the door, her steps slow to a complete stop. Even as she turns toward me, I can feel the hesitation radiating from her body. Her grip on my hand loosens, her fingers trembling against mine.
“I don’t want to sleep alone in paradise,” she says.
A smile splits my face open as she presses her lips together, making every attempt to conceal her own face-splitting reaction.
She presses her free hand against my stomach, pretending to push me away. I pull her back again, my mouth connecting with hers. This kiss doesn’t turn into a frenzied make out session like earlier, but it holds a certain amount of passion and promise that can’t be denied.
Neither of us really know what tomorrow will bring, or the day after that. Or next week for that matter. But none of that’s important, not now. Not in this moment.
I don’t even know this woman’s last name, but I know I’ve been following her all day. I know I’m going to follow her to whoever’s bed she wants to lay in—hers or mine, it makes no difference.
My daddy said something else, too. … and if you find yourself willing to follow her anywhere, don’t let her go.
I’d follow this woman anywhere.
And that’s all I really need to know right now.