“You’re the only one who’s ever made my heart throb. The only one. Ever.”
Miles felt helpless and sick. Aimee was still holding on to his shirt and suddenly yanked him through a small break in the tall hedges, between a thick row of trees and a fence. She was breathing hard now, raggedly, and her cheeks were red, and if she was about to dump him, Miles knew he would die right there on the spot.
A second later, her body slammed against his as she threw her arms around his neck, pulling his head down. Her mouth crashing over his took him by so much surprise he couldn’t even react. He felt his baseball cap fly off as her fingers fisted the roots of his hair.
“Mmm…Miles…” she whispered into his mouth, her hold tightening around his head. She flattened herself against him, forcing him to step back, bumping into a tree, making him lose his footing.
Down they went, Aimee landing on top of him. But she didn’t stop kissing him, didn’t slow down, didn’t seem to notice they were lying in the grass. She held his face between her hands, kissing him so hard his head filled with haze and then emptied.
Finally his body awoke, and he wrapped his arms around her back, sliding them under her hair. Her tongue was in his mouth, her lips were warm and tasted like vanilla. He rolled them over and kissed her, never wanting to stop. When he rolled again, they hit the stump of a tree.
“Ouch,” she whispered, breaking their kiss for the first time. She was on the bottom now, her dark hair—golden in the afternoon sunlight—spilling all around her.
“Oh, damn,” he said, propping up on his elbows. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, I hurt you,” She reached up and touched the top of his head. “You hit the tree with your skull. I heard it. Don’t you feel the lump?”
He grinned. “I feel zero pain, Ames.”
She tucked her chin and rolled her head on the grass, looking away, trying to hide that stunning, sunny smile that was etched on his soul. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled them again so he was on the bottom and her face hovered above him.
“Hey. That was the first time you kissed me.”
She looked at him. “We’ve kissed, like, bunches of times.”
“No.” He touched his mouth to her ear, his hand at the back of her neck, burrowing under her curtain of hair. “That, right then, was the first time you kissed me…first…on your own.”
She tucked her chin again, but Miles held her face, needing to see her. “Please tell me what I did to deserve that, so I can do it a thousand more times.”
She leaned down, hovering over his mouth, temptingly. “You stood up for me.”
“After you stood up for me.”
She kissed him slowly. “You threated to kick his ass.”
He looked up at the sky and laughed, holding the hair back from her face. “Only because you were about to first, and I couldn’t let a lady do that.”
“Such good manners,” she said, running a finger over his lips. “I’ve also been curious about something else.” She kissed him, moving her mouth over his like she was exploring. It zapped the strength out of him, sinking him deeper into the grass. “Ahh, so the legend is true.”
“What legend?” he asked, very happy he didn’t have to rely on his legs right now.
“Trumpet players are the hottest kissers.”
“If I’m any good at all”—he paused to press his lips to hers—“it’s because of you. You make my heart—”
“Throb?” she said, fluttering her eyelashes.
Miles groaned. “No, please.”
“I like your nickname.” She slid one of her little hands between them, placing it over her heart. “And it’s fitting. Throb-throb…throb-throb.”
Miles rolled his eyes. “It isn’t, though. Seriously. All that crap about how I can get any girl I want, whenever I want, like that paparazzo said. It’s all rubbish, Aimee, just a phony tagline to slap over my picture in magazines.”
“But you can get any girl you want.”
“I want you.” The words slipped out before he could stop them.
“You’ve got me,” she said, smiling. “See? That legend is true, too.”
“Ames.” He put his hand over hers that was resting on her chest, interlocked their fingers, then moved their hands to press over his heart. “You’re the only one who’s ever made my heart throb. The only one. Ever.”