"It's just chocolate."
"It's not." I set the mug down. "You made it. For me. Because you wanted to."
"Yeah. I did."
"That's choosing too."
I kissed him before I could ramble more. Slow and deep, tasting chocolate and whipped cream. His hands framed my face, and I forgot why I'd been nervous.
When we broke apart, I stared into his eyes.
"Can I see the rest?"
"Not much to see."
"I want to see it anyway."
He showed me the bathroom he'd retiled—perfect grout lines. Spare room full of half-finished projects that made me feel better about my own disaster zones. Then his bedroom.
Simple. Neat. Navy sheets with hospital corners. One photo on the nightstand of him when he was much younger. He was with an older girl at a lake—probably his sister, Sloane.
I picked up the frame. "You were a cute kid."
"Weird kid."
"Same thing." I set it down carefully and turned to face him.
The bed was right there. He was right there.
My ribs chose that moment to remind me they existed—dull ache pulsing under my left side. I ignored it.
"Rhett, I really want to kiss you again."
"Then do it."
I kissed him hard enough that he stumbled back. His shoulders hit the wall. My hands slid under his shirt, found bare skin, and the sound he made made my cock swell in my jeans.
He pulled back. "Too much?"
"Not enough." He gripped my hoodie and pulled me back. "Don't stop."
We kissed until my brain forgot how to form coherent thoughts. When his mouth moved to my neck and found that spot below my ear, my knees went weak.
I yanked off my hoodie and tossed it somewhere. My T-shirt underneath was thin and faded.
Then his hands slid under the hem, and he found bare skin. I forgot how to breathe.
His palms dragged across my stomach, and every place he touched ignited into flames. When he traced along my ribs, he hesitated at the scar tissue.
The old bruise chose that moment to pulse. I worked even harder to ignore it.
"Bed?" My voice was hoarse.
"Yeah."
We stumbled toward it. He pulled my T-shirt over my head and tossed it. Then his hands were on my bare chest and—
Fuck.
