Because her heart was pounding and her thoughts were racing and—
She wanted to savor this moment.
But not forever.
Because for the first time in a long time?
She wasn’t scared of wanting more.
Her thumb hovered for only a second more.
Then— send.
“Omg,” she groaned aloud the second it delivered, throwing herself back on the couch, eyes glued to the phone like it might explode.
She didn’t have to wait long.
…Jesus, Ali. I’m trying to be good. But if you keep texting me like that, I’m gonna lose all sense of decency. You’ll be blushing for days.
Her breath hitched. She covered her face with both hands, heat blooming across her cheeks, down her neck, between her legs.
I’ll pin you to any wall you want.
Bedroom wall. Shower wall. Back of the closet door. Hell, against the fridge if that’s what you need.
Just tell me. I’ll give you everything that mouth of yours is thinking about.
Ali let out a high, breathless sound and scrambled upright, pacing again.
Her pulse was doing cartwheels, her mind spinning with everything his words implied.
Fridge.
Closet.
Shower.
Bedroom. His bedroom.
Her knees nearly buckled.
Because that was the one she wanted most.
But she didn’t know how to say it.
Not yet.
So instead, she typed something coy, with her lip caught between her teeth:
I don’t think I’m ready for a fridge yet…
Then— heart thudding— she added:
But I think about your bedroom. A lot.
And this time?
She didn’t throw her phone.
