“She's crying because he gave her a rose?They've known each other for three hours.”
“That's the point.It's unhinged.”
“This is the worst thing I've ever seen.”He's grinning.“Put on the next episode.”
We make it through two episodes before the laptop battery dies and neither of us moves to plug it in.The room is darker now, lit only by the glow of the streetlights outside my window, and at some point Jay's arm ended up around my shoulders.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
I look up at him.“Hey.”
“I had a really good time tonight.”
“Me too.”
“I want to do this again.”His voice is careful, measured.“Not just tonight.I mean...all of it.The dates, the hanging out, the watching terrible reality TV while you mock my taste in everything.”
My heart is pounding.“What are you saying?”
“I'm saying I want to date you, Ally Hart.”He turns to face me fully, his expression open and vulnerable in a way I've never seen from him.“For real.Not just whatever we've been doing—the chasing, the running, the pretending we don't feel something.I want the real thing.”
“Jay...”
“You don't have to answer now.I know I've been a lot, and I know you have reasons to be skeptical, and I know my track record isn't exactly—”
“Yes.”
He stops.“What?”
“Yes.”I'm smiling, and I can't seem to stop.“I want to date you too.For real.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
His answering grin is blinding.“Okay.Good.That's...that's really good.”
He leans in and kisses me, soft and sweet, nothing like the desperate, frantic kisses we've shared before.This one feels different, like it was earned.
When he pulls back, I don't let him go far.
“Stay,” I whisper.
“Ally—”
“I mean it.”I thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer.“Stay with me tonight.”
“Are you sure?”
Instead of answering, I kiss him again—harder this time, with intent.He makes a low sound in his throat and pulls me onto his lap, his hands sliding up my thighs, pushing the red dress higher.Higher.All the way up to my waist, bunching the fabric there until I'm completely exposed from the waist down.
He looks down and groans.
“A red thong.”His voice is wrecked.“You planned this.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely.”His hips push up, the rough fabric of his trousers grinding against my core, and I gasp at the friction.“You've been walking around all night with this underneath?”
