Mina threw a pillow at my head. “It was one slightly crispy piece of toast.”
“Two,” I muttered, dodging easily, a smirk tugging at my mouth. “And whatever those eggs were… that was culinary assault.”
She huffed and curled up on the couch, drowning in my hoodie, trying to look offended. But that spark in her eyes said otherwise.
I placed the order—shawarma, garlic dip, extra pita, and one of those massive cookie-pie things she’d claimed was “for me” but always stole bites of first. Once the confirmation popped up, I tossed my phone onto the coffee table and turned toward her.
She tugged on the hem of my hoodie. “Now what?” she asked, voice sweet but laced with challenge.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.
I leaned in, one hand finding her waist, the other brushing her cheek. The kiss started slow—exploratory—but deepened fast, like it always did with her. She tasted like toothpaste and mischief, and I was already losing myself to it before I even realized I’d pulled her into my lap, her weight settling against me like it belonged there. She laughed softly—one of those quiet, breathy sounds that curled around my chest and made something inside me loosen. My hands found her hips first, then traced their way up her back, learning every curve, every warm line of her body like a map I never wanted to forget.
I kissed her cheek. Then her forehead. The corner of her mouth. Her neck. Her shoulder. Every place my lips touched, she melted a little more into me. Her skin was impossibly soft—warm, alive, real. I could’ve stayed like this forever, letting my hands memorize her, letting her scent fill the quiet space between us. She smelled like vanilla and something brighter—something undeniably her.
And then it hit me. I didn’t want to leave. Not for a road game, not for anything. Not when this was what waited for me at home.
The feeling caught me off guard—not just the protectiveness, though that was always there, ready to bare teeth if anyone so much as looked at her wrong. This was different. Deeper. I liked being around her. I liked who I was when I was with her. And that… terrified me.
The doorbell rang, breaking the spell we’d been wrapped in on the couch. I reluctantly let go of Mina, already missing the feel of her pressed against me. She hopped up, grinning like she hadn’t just completely ruined my willpower for the day. I grabbed the bags from the delivery guy and set them on the counter while she bounced over like it was Christmas morning.
“You didn’t burn this one,” I teased as I opened the containers.
“Shocking, right? I was ready to save us both with toast if this fell through,” she shot back, nudging my hip with hers as she reached for a fork.
We dug in—her on the counter; me leaning beside her, stealing bites from her plate just to hear her mock protest. It was easy, being with her. Too easy.
Then my phone buzzed on the counter.
Ryker: Van’s outside. You’ve got five.
I stared at the message longer than necessary. Mina must’ve sensed the shift, because she looked up from her food with a softer expression.
“They’re here?” she asked quietly.
I nodded, exhaling slowly. “Yeah.”
She slid off the counter and followed me to the door, barefoot and still in my hoodie. The sight of her like that—bare legs, messy bun, sleepy eyes—made my throat tighten.
At the threshold, I paused. She crossed her arms and leaned against the frame, smirking.
“Don’t cause too many fights while you’re gone,” she said.
“No promises,” I replied, stepping closer. “Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.”
She raised a brow. “Again, no promises.”
There was a beat of silence. Our eyes locked, the jokes thinning out, leaving only what we weren’t quite ready to say aloud.
“I’ll miss this,” I said.
“I’ll miss you,” she whispered.
I pressed a quick kiss to her forehead—short, but deliberate. Then I turned to go, already counting the hours until I could walk back through that same door.
Chapter 21
Mina
