I'm beginning to suspect Baba is manipulating things sometimes.
We watch the two men return to the veranda. Petr faces me, and I become even more aware of the distance between us. Inches, if that. I stare at his wide chest for a moment before meeting his gaze finally.
"Dinner?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.
"I figured next week is okay, since you have the party through the weekend," I reply.
"You're serious."
"Unless the offer is no longer open," I add. It's hard to breathe and talk again. "I thought I'd save you the trouble today of asking."
"If I remember, you said you couldn't go until you'd dealt with something."
I clear my throat. "It's over. Dealt with. Done." The declaration makes my soul quiver, along with the reality that I don't have any idea what to do now that I'm free of the past.
He's quiet, hard to read. I search his face, on the verge of hyperventilating at the idea I might have assumed too much.
"It's okay if you don't want to anymore," I add somewhat breathlessly. "I've been a pain in the ass to you. I don't know how you toler-"
Petr kisses me. I freeze at the sudden pressure of his warm lips, familiar fear floating through me before I remind myself the nightmare is over and this is what I want. He is what I want. With some timidity, I lean against his hard frame and start to relax, opening to him. As before, his kiss is slow and gentle, testing me, exploring the depths of my mouth with his velvety tongue. He tastes of cider and cinnamon tonight, a purely holiday flavor.
His arms wrap around me, surrounding me with heat and strength that fills me with both yearning and relief. I rest my palms on his chest and indulge in how incredible his muscles and warmth feel through the soft sweater.
Petr cups my neck with one hand, his thumb running back and forth along the sensitive area of my neck below the ear.
He withdraws without moving away, his face inches from mine and hand moving to my cheek. "You are serious," he murmurs.
"I am. If it's not too late."
"No." He smiles, and the skin around his eyes crinkles. "So this means … what?"
I feel stripped bare, emotionally raw beneath his intensity, and so wildly ecstatic and scared, I can't breathe or speak for a moment. "It means … I'm scared but … I also want to fall with you. No more running or ask-me-tomorrows. I want … this. Us."
"I like that." His smile grows warmer. "You sleeping over tonight?" He winks.