He stepped forward and closed half the distance between us.
He reached out for the neck of my t-shirt. Fingertips rested on the skin just above it. Barely a touch. I felt it everywhere.
"You," he said.
I kissed him first this time.
It wasn't like in the elevator. That had been freefall. This was mine. Deliberate. I saw the opening, and I moved, the way I charged the net: full commit, deal with what comes after.
My lips pressed against his, and the angle was right immediately. He curled his fingers to grip the neck of my t-shirt.
I'd kissed people before. A guy in Thunder Bay who tasted like cheap beer and laughed into my mouth. He taught me that sex could be absurd and still good. A guy at a party during my draft year whom I'd pressed against a bathroom door hard enough to rattle the hinges. He taught me I liked being the one who moved first.
Kieran made a sound against my mouth, short, half-swallowed, like he'd been punched somewhere soft.
I pulled back an inch. "Okay?"
He had dilated pupils; the black swallowed most of the brown. "Yeah. That's—" He exhaled. "Yeah."
I kissed him again. Slower.
His hands moved from my collar to my waist, searching. The fingers of one hand gripped my shirt, loosened, and grabbedagain in a different place. He wanted to touch me. He just didn't have a map for where yet.
I walked him backward out of the kitchen.
My apartment got involved. His calf caught the coffee table.
He stumbled. Grabbed my shoulders. He laughed, short and surprised.
I laughed too.
"Your apartment is trying to kill me," he said.
"It builds character."
"It builds bruises."
I shoved the table sideways with my foot. Graceless and effective. Kissed the corner of his mouth.
I guided him to the couch. Hand at the small of his back.
Sitting changed everything. He looked up at me with an open expression I'd never seen on him.
I knelt on the floor in front of him.
His breathing stopped.
"Hey." I put my hand on his knee. "We don't have to do anything."
"I know." His voice was steady. "I want to—I don't want to stop."
"If something's off—"
"I'll tell you."
Kieran looked down at me, reaching for my jaw and tipping my face up so he could see it.
"I haven't—" He stopped. Jaw tight. Tried again. "Not with anyone."
