I close the distance between us in two strides. “I’m not waiting months, Olivia. I’m not pretending you don’t mean everything to me just because the internet has opinions.”
“Carter—”
“No. Listen.” I cup her face, forcing her to look at me. “I know the risks. I know what we’re up against. But I also know that life’s too short to waste time on ‘maybe later’ when I want you right now.”
“Someone could see—”
“Let them.”
Her eyes widen. “You don’t mean that.”
“Don’t I?” I search her face. “What’s the worst that happens? More photos leak? More comments? Olivia, I’ve already lost myprivacy. I’ve already had my name dragged through the mud. The only thing I can’t lose is you.”
Tears glisten in her eyes. “You’re not thinking clearly.”
“I’ve never been more clear.” My thumb brushes her cheek. “Come home with me tonight. Please. I don’t care who sees. I don’t care what they say. I just need to be with you.”
“Carter—”
“Please.”
For a long moment, she just stares at me. I can see the war in her eyes, duty versus desire, professionalism versus need.
Then she makes her choice.
“Okay.”
We leave separately. Her first, citing a headache. Me fifteen minutes later, claiming exhaustion from the week’s practices.
No one questions it. No one sees.
But half an hour later, when I open my front door and find her standing there in that black dress, all pretense falls away.
“Hi,” she says softly.
“Hi.”
I pull her inside, and the moment the door closes, my mouth is on hers. She kisses me back with the same desperate hunger, hands fisting in my shirt, pulling me closer.
We stumble toward the living room, knocking into furniture, breaking apart only long enough to breathe.
“Carter,” she gasps against my mouth. “Are you sure—”
“Yes.” I kiss her neck, her jaw, anywhere I can reach. “Are you?”
“Yes. God, yes.”
I pull back just enough to look at her. Her hair’s coming loose from its pins. Her lipstick’s smudged. She’s never looked more beautiful.
“I’ve thought about this,” I admit. “Since that night in my office. Since the parking garage. Every single night.”
“Me too.” Her hands slide up my chest, over my shoulders. “I told myself I could resist. That keeping my distance was the smart thing.”
“And now?”
“Now, I don’t want to be smart anymore.” She kisses me again, slower this time. Deeper. “I just want to be with you.”
Something in my chest cracks open. “Olivia—”
