“Happy New Year, sweetheart,” I whisper on her lips just before I claim them once again.
Her hands fist my shirt until it constricts around me. She moans, and the sound sends a surge of need rippling through me. I’ve got to get her home.
“We should go,” she moans. “We—We can’t do this here. Obviously.”
I chuckle breathily and quietly. “Obviously,” I say as I take her hand and tug gently. “Shall we go now?”
“We can’t just leave to go have sex,” she whisper-shouts, tugging my hand back. “They’ll know.”
“I hate to break it to you, Nat,” I say, “but as soon as everyone leaves, I’m pretty sure Lana and Christian are fucking on the couch.”
“Ew, shut up.” She shoves my arm.
“If we leave now, I can fuck you on your couch…”
Her gaze darkens and her lips tilt up. “Fine.”
Natalia spins around toward our friends. Julian is packing up to go home and put Grace to bed, and Luca is trying to wake up his twin who is too far gone into an alcohol coma. I laugh at a sleeping Isabelle, snoring with her head thrown back on the couch and mouth wide open. Meanwhile, Lana and Christian are waiting for the moment we leave.
Natalia spins back around. “I hitched a ride with Isa but she’s…out of it.”
I snort. “Luca is going to drop her off at home.”
“Oh.” A shade of pink touches her cheeks.
“I’ll drive you home, sweetheart,” I say and she nods. “Can I take you home now?”
She smiles. “Yes, please.”
CHAPTER 38
Natalia
Rowan pulls into a spot in front of my apartment building just as I wake up, groaning from the short nap I must have accidentally taken in the fifteen minutes it takes to get from Lana’s to mine.
“Rowan.” I frown and turn to face him, only to find him smiling. “You didn’t wake me?”
“You’re tired, sweetheart.” He takes my hand in both of his and kisses my palm, then places it against his slightly stubbled cheek. I can’t decide if I love a freshly shaven Rowan, or Rowan who hasn’t shaved in a few days. “Let me walk you up and I’ll go home so you can rest.”
“But…” I gnaw at the inside of my cheek. “Okay.”
“I love you,” he whispers and leans over the console to kiss my cheek. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”
“I’m not tired.” I yawn.
He chuckles and steps out of his SUV, jogging around the hood with puffs of air coming from between his lips. The passenger door opens and he takes my hand as I step out ofthe car. He intertwines my fingers with his, locking the car with his other hand in his pocket.
He gave me his gloves earlier tonight while we all stood outside in the expansive driveway, prolonging our goodbyes. I’m still wearing them and I wonder if his hands are cold, but he prefers that I’m warm. I prefer that he’s warm too.
I stop halfway up the concrete path to the building entrance and remove my right hand from my pocket.
“Nat, what?—”
I pull the glove off by biting into the tip of my middle finger, sliding my hand right out of the giant leather glove. “Give me your right hand,” I say.
“Sweetheart—”
“No,” I say and grab his hand, trying my best to pull the glove over his fingers. “If you’re going to hold my hand, then both our hands will be warm.”
