“Yeah.” I wrinkle my nose. “I guess.”
“Scout.” He leans down, brushing his lips over mine in a way that sets loose a riot of butterflies in my stomach. “You’re mine.”
My heart pounds. Against his lips, I ask, “And does that mean we’re exclusive?”
“Yes, Pretty Girl. There’s no one else. Just you.”
I press up on my tiptoes, cupping the back of his neck and pulling him down to me. Our mouths meet, slow and passionate, the kiss less insistent but no less intense. Damn, Silas knows how to kiss.
When we part, I realize that I have more than a crush on him. It’s not love yet, but it will be. It’s obviously heading there. My feelings are so sharp right now, I have the sensationof walking over shards of glass… but in a good way? I can’t explain it better than that.
When we get back to the condo, I'm buzzing with emotion I don't quite know how to process. Overwhelmed in the best possible way, happy in a way that feels almost dangerous. Because what if it gets taken away? The things that feel best never stay.
I change into silky sleep shorts, keep Si's hoodie, brush my teeth, then climb into his bed without asking if it's okay or second-guessing myself. Because this is where I belong now, apparently.
He follows a few minutes later, fresh from his own shower. "Mm."
He pulls me against his chest and buries his nose in my hair like he missed me in the half hour I was showering. I exhale slowly, trying not to pinch myself.
"Today was good," I whisper into the dark.
"Yeah. It was."
"Hunter and Jett are great. Juliet's amazing."
"They liked you. In your new position as my plus-one, I mean."
"Yeah? How can you tell?"
"Because Jett didn't roast you too hard. That's his version of approval." His hand strokes through my curls, gentle and repetitive. "And Hunter only warns people off when he cares about them. So when he cornered me after and told me not to screw this up, that was basically his blessing."
When he pets me like this, he turns off my brain. I smile against his chest. "Your family is weird."
"Yeah. But they're mine."
"And I'm yours?" The question comes out smaller than I intend. More vulnerable.
"Yeah, Pretty Girl. You're mine. Is that what you want?"
"More than anything."
He sounds relieved. "Good."
The words should scare me. And they do feel like too much too fast. But they also feel like coming home after being lost for years.
Sleep pulls at me, wrapped in his arms, listening to his heartbeat. Maybe I've finally found where I belong.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Scout
Iwake up to my phone buzzing on the nightstand. The screen shows February 14th. Valentine's Day.
I stare at the ceiling, chest tight. Does Silas even know what day it is? Does he care about things like that? Is that what girlfriends and boyfriends do?
Actually, I never got a clear yes or no from him about the am-I-your-girlfriend matter. I don’t want to press the issue because I’m busy being light, breezy, and not making things complicated. After Enzo, there are a lot of patterns I’m not looking to replicate.
Rolling over to ask him, his side of the bed is already cold and empty. Faintly, I can hear him in the kitchen through the closed door. His protein shake bottle clinks and there's a rustle of meal prep containers as he opens and closes them. Dragging myself out of bed, I find him standing at the counter with his back to me. A tower of tense muscle barely contained in gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders.
