“You’re walking around my apartment naked,” I said, pushing off the frame and crossing to her. “I think that’s fair warning.”
She shot me a grin over her shoulder. “You complaining?”
“Not even a little.”
I slid my hands around her waist, pulling her back into me. She melted instantly, leaning her head against my chest as she kept stirring whatever was in the pan. I kissed the spot behind her ear, the one that always made her shiver.
“Smells good,” I murmured.
“So do you,” she said, nudging me with her hip. “Now stop distracting me.”
I didn’t. I kissed down her neck, feeling her smile against the air even though I couldn’t see it. She set the spoon down and turned in my arms, hooking her fingers into the waistband of my shorts.
“You cooking with me or just staring at my ass all morning?” she asked.
“I can multitask.”
She laughed again, and reached up to kiss me. Her hands slid up my chest.
We finished breakfast like that—touching, drifting around each other, nudging shoulders and hips as we moved about the kitchen. She fed me a bite straight from her fingers, licking the sauce from her thumb with a grin that nearly ruined me.
It was nothing dramatic, but a morning where everything felt right.The kind of moment you don’t realize is a memory until it’s gone.
12
luna
I wanted to paint the entire house in warmth. It was cold, made even colder by the memories of the two of us here together. There was so much I needed to talk to Dirks about—Nova being back here, where Jeremy was, everything that happened when I came back to the States.
And then there were the things I could never say. Not to him. Not about Jeremy. Not about the past we promised to bury.
All I wanted was to replace the cold with something warm. Somethingnew. Bright laughter in this kitchen. The smell of food on the stove. A kiss against the fridge door. A reason to remember this place differently.
“It’s lovely in here,” I said, eyes drifting over the space.
When I turned, Dirks was bent slightly, pulling a few vegetables from the fridge.
“Don’t do that, Luna girl,” he crooned.
I stepped toward the marble island in the center of the kitchen, fingertips grazing its edge.
“Do what?”
“Do that thing where you lie and cover it up with something sweet. You know better.”
He put down the vegetables and rounded the corner to where I was. He was still shirtless, and even though it was winter outside, he was somehow still tanned.
“I know better?” I whimpered, my voice trembling with all the things I hadn’t said.
“Yes.”
I sighed as his hands found their way to my hips, the warmth and familiarity of his touch beckoning me like the warm sun after a dreary winter. It was too easy to lean into it, too easy to remember exactly how this felt, rather howhefelt.
“Okay,” I murmured, my fingers curling lightly against his bare chest, as if surrender wasn’t a conscious decision but something my body had already chosen.
He didn’t say anything else, only stood there holding me. He gripped my hips, firm but gentle, and I rested my hands on his chest, feeling the even rise and fall of his breath. Our bodies fit together, and we didn’t rush anything. Westood there,letting the moment stretch.
I looked up at him, my cheek brushing against his collarbone. “I’m hungry,” I whispered.
