"Yeah, all right. I don't think I've been there since a high school field trip."

He grinned. "Me and the guys used to go there when we wanted to skip school. We'd get all baked in the parking lot and poke the wildlife with sticks."

"I'm not poking anything with a stick," I stated.

"I got a stick I'd like to poke you with."

"Yeah, you've made that pretty clear there." I laughed.

He smiled his Lady Killer and took my hand, bringing it up to his lips. "You're enchantin' when you laugh."

"And you're a dirty pervert."

"Takes one to know one."

The drive was about fifteen minutes west along the highway. It was a pleasant drive, too, with his arm draped over the seat of the Black Beauty behind me. I realized that I felt comfortable with him, very natural, and I wondered why I was holding back.

Am I just scared of the intensity of the feelings I have for him?

"Do you know what time you'll get back on Friday?" I asked.

"I think our plane arrives around three."

"Would you want me to pick you up from the airport?"

He glanced over at me and smiled. "Yeah, that'd be awesome."

"Would you like to come to my place after and have dinner?"

His smile brightened even more, and he slowed the Black Beauty to turn right down the dirt road that would lead us to the Reptile Sanctuary.

"I'd love to."

"Would you like to stay the night with me?"

He slammed on the brakes, threw the truck into neutral, and yanked up the parking brake. Grabbing my face, he gave me a tongue-sucking kiss that left me breathless.

"Yes."

"All right then." I laughed.

He kissed me again and once more after that.

"I want you to stay at my place tonight," he murmured against my mouth. "We don't have to do anything. Just let me sleep next to you before I have to go."

"Can I think about it?"

"Only if your answer is yes," he replied with a grin.

The Reptile Sanctuary wasn't as impressive as the name sounded. It was just several acres of swampland that had wide wooden walkways with railings over the watery bits. People could buy food pellets to toss into the snapping turtle holes, and sometimes, the park rangers could be seen dangling dead chickens to entice the alligators into feeding for spectators. There were many different species of birds, and mangrove trees and other flora canopied the whole place. It was more of a quiet retreat for locals who just needed to get out of the house but didn't want to do anything too exciting-or for teenagers to smoke weed and skip school.

Seeing as it was Sunday, it was pretty dead.

At the entrance/exit stood a tiny shop that sold stuffed animals and key chains and the like.

"I'll buy you a stuffed animal on the way out, Baby Girl. Whatever you want. You need spoiling," said Phil, laughing, as we walked past. He draped his arms over my shoulders and pulled me into his chest to drop a kiss on top of my head.

I slipped my hand into his back pocket, squeezing a really big, firm butt cheek. "I'm already spoiled, being able to feel up on this."

"You make it too easy," he said.

"Yeah, I'm pretty low-maintenance." I gave it another squeeze and blurted out, "What the hell do you do to make your ass this perfect? Squats?"

Laughter rumbled out of his chest like thunder, and the sound was just so wonderful. It filled me with a warm golden glow.

"I work out a few times a week. I have to, to keep my energy up for performing," he explained. "I can't be on stage without being all over the place, and it'd suck if I was too tired to deliver."

"You guys do have a reputation for killing your audiences."

"That's how we like to leave 'em-sore and beggin' for more."

"What's it like-being up in front of thousands of screaming fans?"

The smile he gave me lit me up from inside my soul.

"Awesome. It's the best fuckin' high. There's nothing like it. And when the audience is really into it, it's even better. When they're all screamin' our songs back at us, it just amps us up more. But it doesn't really have to be thousands of people. Sometimes, the small venues are the best because they're the ones with the real hardcore fans."

"I can only imagine. Who hasn't fantasized about being up on stage, singing to the multitudes?" I mused.

"What do you sing when you fantasize about it?"

"'Kashmir,'" I replied.

Above his aviator sunglasses, his eyebrows rose. "No shit."

"No shit. There's a few more, but that's my jam."

That made him laugh.

Tossing a few pellets over the side of the railing, watching as the snappers rose to the surface, I asked him, "Aren't you worried about being recognized?"

"Not really. Not here at least. And it's not like we're pop musicians and shit, you know? The people who know what we look like actually listen to our music, go to our shows, and buy metal magazines." He watched as an old couple passed slowly by us. "And don't have to escape the nursin' home for a wild day at the Reptile Sanctuary."

"I suppose not. Have you ever been mobbed by crazed fans?"

"Sure. Japan and South America were the worst."

"Yeah, South Americans are a bit fanatical about their metal."

"No shit," he grunted in agreement, tossing more pellets into the water. "What about you? You ever get mobbed by patients?"

"Yeah, Monday through Friday, they can be pretty hardcore," I stated grimly.

He grinned. "What's it like being a doctor?"

I shrugged. "I like helping people, so it's good in that respect. I like knowing I have a positive impact on their lives, providing relief. It can get pretty rough though. I do a bit of work at the rehab center twice a month, mostly with pain relief from detox. I go to the hospital a few times a month to help the nurses with the long-term care patients. After a while, the drugs can stop working on their pain, and instead of increasing dosages, they opt for physical therapy and acupuncture for relief."

"I think what you do is pretty amazin', Kenna," he told me, his voice deep and soft. Maybe a smidgen of awe even slipped in.

Looking up at him, I found myself a little thankful that we were both wearing sunglasses. I could still feel the intense emotions coming off of him-Is it...pride?-but the sunglasses made it easier for me to accept Phil's reverence without having the full blast of it bombarding my senses.

"It's what I do," I said with a shrug.

We ended up walking around for another hour and a half. I had to hand it to Phil. He was able to restrain himself from finding a stick and poking the wildlife but just barely.

He'd gotten boyishly excited when he saw the park rangers coming out with the chickens.

It must be a guy thing.

The alligators, pretty much trained into expecting this, rose up to the surface of the water when they caught sight of the rangers.

"Mmm...they look delicious," said Phil.

Surely, he hadn't meant for it to be a sexual sound, but fucking hell, that noise tickled my lady bits.

"The gators or the rangers?" I laughed, trying to cover up my horny discomfort.

"I could go for some human," he joked.

Yanking me into his arms, he buried his face into the crook of my neck. Nipping lightly at the sensitive skin, he gave the sting a slow, lazy lick. My whole body responded to him, the ache for him between my legs throbbing hard.

"I love the way you taste," he whispered. "I wanna lick every fuckin' inch of you and taste all your different flavors."

Well, fuck me running.

"That sounds..." I swallowed, searching desperately for an appropriately inappropriate adjective.

"I bet it does," he replied with a smirk.

On the way out, he bought me a stuffed turtle, and I got him a tiny alligator key chain, which he promptly put onto his key ring.

On the drive back to Ormond, we stopped by a farm stand that sold the best milkshakes.

Leaning against the bed of the truck, he groaned, "Oh God, this is the shit. It's funny how I never realized just how much I missed everything."

"What's the one thing you missed the most?"

Wrapping his left arm around my waist, he pulled my groin and stomach into his.

"You," he replied. "From the moment I realized you were gone that night, I've missed you. Nothin' the world over has even come close to makin' me feel the way I do when I'm with you."

My brain fritzed at his words.

It was fear I realized-like, honest-to-the-gods fear. The man fucking terrified me with his intensity and his blind devotion to me, a woman he barely knew. But that wasn't the worst part of it. I was fucking terrified of myself because I felt the same damn way. I was just as intense with my emotions for him, a man I barely knew.

How is that even possible?

"How..." I swallowed hard and started again, "How can you feel that way? We hardly know each other."

"I know you, Baby Girl," he stated, his voice deep and full of conviction. "I've always known you. You're my other half. I've known that from the first time I saw you."

Feeling slightly dizzy from the torrent of emotions spinning through my head, I sucked in a shaky breath in an attempt to steady myself. Phil leaned down and pressed a sweet, gentle kiss to my mouth that tasted like chocolate and sex.

"Tell me you don't feel it, too," he challenged softly.

"I-I can't," I admitted, whispering. I sounded as scared as I felt. Splayed wide open and vulnerable to him, my fight-or-flight sense was through the roof, and I wanted to do neither.

What the fuck am I supposed to do?

Accept it. Accept what he wants to give you. Accept him.

Closing my eyes, I could hear his sharp intake of breath.

He felt my internal struggle. He knew I was battling with myself.

Leaning into him, sliding my arms around his waist, anchoring myself to him, I took a cleansing deep breath. I breathed him into me, let him fill my olfactory and bombard my mind. Resting my head against his shoulder, my forehead pressed into his neck, and I inhaled his scent over and over. There was nothing that smelled as good as Phil-clean and masculine, spicy and musky, mouthwatering.

Against my breastplate, his heart tripped. In my chest, my heart tripped.

Exhale.

Accept it. Accept him.

Strong arms enfolded me, holding me tight.

Can I really do this? Just trust him and let go of my fears? Will I be forever lost to myself if I do? Or does it even matter?

I'd been fighting it from the moment my mother told me he was The One. I couldn't accept it then because I couldn't deal with the fact that he existed, yet he was so far out of my reach. I'd convinced myself that it was simply a secret obsession, that I was holding on to nothing but a pleasant memory, that he wasn't truly real-at least not in my life. Even with all the evidence to the contrary, I couldn't allow myself to believe in this. To believe in it and then be denied...would have destroyed me.

But Phil never not believed in it, in us. It had been a sealed deal since that night six years ago. It had only been a matter of time for him.

As weak as letting go of my reservations left me, I could feel his strength filling me, lifting me up, and as I pulled back to face him, I was rewarded with his mouth claiming me as his.

This is where I belong-in his arms, in his life. It's the only place I've ever belonged.

When we broke the kiss, we were both left shaken.

"Kenna..."