He stepped up on the rock beside me, his eyes scanning out over the ocean. We were silent and though I was still looking for those whales, every inch of my body was aware of how close his body was to me. Just inches away, but it felt like miles. Like every cell in mine was calling out to every cell in his. My throat was tight and I forced myself to swallow.
“There!” I said, throwing out my hand wildly to indicate where I’d seen the spout from a blowhole. In my excitement, I’d thrown myself off balance. He reached out to grab my shoulders, steadying me. His hands felt like heavy weights on me. Grounding me, electrifying me.
I hadn’t felt his touch in so, so long and now his warm hands were on my bare shoulders. I shook slightly with excitement, with suppressed energy. I’d slept very little last night, winding through the puzzles of the game—solving the quest he’d rewritten for me. It had been like traveling through a winding maze and finding his unguarded heart at the center.
In spite of all this running through my mind, I kept my eyes on the spot where I’d seen the spout and another one went up just after that. But he didn’t look up at that one when I pointed it out. Instead, he kept his eyes on me. I could feel the weight of them, as heavy as his hands. And now his thumbs moved across my skin and my mouth went dry and I barely contained the whimper in my throat.
His head dipped and his mouth alighted on the juncture of my neck and shoulder. Heat shot through me and I did moan a little then, responding immediately. He didn’t pull his mouth away, just joined that delicious touch with his tongue, trailing along the back of my neck and shoulder, his hands cupping my shoulders a little bit tighter. My eyes shut tight and my left hand went to his hair, twining my fingers in it, pressing his head against me. I never wanted him to pull away.
My skin was tingling, sensitive, almost so much so that everything was near painful. Every time his lips moved across my skin, I had to fight to keep from jumping. I turned my head and he pulled his mouth away. We stared into each other’s eyes for long moments. His hands slipped from my shoulders to my waist, then tightened his hold, encircling his arms around me. I fell against him with a sigh and his mouth landed on mine.
I opened my mouth to him but didn’t wait for his tongue to enter. Instead, I pressed mine forward, exploring him. He sucked in a breath, probably surprised by my boldness. I turned in his arms and pressed my chest against his, fixing my hands around his neck. The kiss deepened and I was caught up, swirling as everything turned—like we were the axis of a world all our own and it revolved around us.
They say love makes the world go round and that tiny world we had formed went around us and at our center, at that axis—love. My heart pressed against his. The world dimmed as the sun sank below the horizon but neither of us seemed aware. The ocean continued to pound its endless rhythm but it was nothing compared to our hearts dashing against each other.
When he pulled his mouth away, that dreamlike reality we’d formed around us continued. He pressed his forehead to mine and we stared into each other’s eyes. My hands were on his cheeks, my thumbs caressing his exquisite jaw. He was even more beautiful in the violet light of dusk than he was in daylight, if it was possible.
“Emilia,” he whispered, his eyes closing, and then he tucked me under his chin as he pulled me closer to him, tighter. “I missed you.”
Missing him seemed such a weak way to say what I’d been doing for the past two months. Existing without him had made me feel lacking, incomplete, a whole huge part of me gone.
“I missed you too—the way an ionized atom misses its last electron,” I said with a laugh on my lips.
“You are such a nerd,” he laughed, kissing my nose. “But that’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
Two atoms, sharing a covalent bond, melded together, forming a molecule—something better than each of the parts separately. And I couldn’t help but think that that was like us. Separate, we were special, unique people; together, we formed something rare and precious and greater than our separate selves.
“So, I might have checked at the reservation desk early this morning and rented one of the cottages for the night…if you feel like spending the night here at the beach,” he said.
I pulled my head away and glanced back at the line of cottages all along the shore. They were historic landmarks, these cottages, all here since the Depression era and inhabited by beach dwellers until the previous decade when the state had retaken the homes, refitted them, and rented them out nightly to the public.
I nodded enthusiastically. Spend the night in one of these adorable cottages with Adam? Yes, please.