The relief that flooded me was a living, growing thing. "I never had a reason to lie to you. I loved you, Livvy. I still fucking love you. I would never sacrifice you. Not even for Larson."
Her eyes grew watery. "You can't break in and do my dishes and tell me you love me."
"I guessed the code. That's technically not breaking in."
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Order my pizza before they close."
I picked up my phone and sat down beside her.
She climbed onto my lap and wrapped her arms around me, pressing her face to my throat. It fucking swelled as I pulled her tighter, holding her as close as I could.
Lowering my nose to her hair, I filled my lungs with her scent, breathing through the intense emotions that accompanied it.
Fuck, I'd missed her.
I managed to put the order in. They recognized my number, and promised to have it to us in ten minutes or less. Liv would end up with way too much pizza, but she loved the leftovers.
I'd buy her a whole fucking pizza place if it would get her to let me in again, anyway.
I felt her tears on my throat and collarbone, andhad to close my eyes against the onslaught of emotion.
Her magic was vibrating the way it did when she needed to move to keep it from sending her into a panic attack.
"I shouldn't have gotten drunk," she mumbled.
"You're not drunk. Cider puts you to sleep."
"No. I'm sure I'm drunk."
"You're not. Just tired."
"You don't know that." The way her lips moved against my skin would've made me hard if I wasn't already there, but I was. The smell of her alone was enough for that.
"I do."
She pulled her face away from my throat, tipping her head back. Her white hair was wild, those sexy blue eyes piercing. "How?"
I met her gaze. "When you're drunk, you're horny enough that I can smell your desire from across the room. You're barely turned on right now."
A blush spread slowly over those pretty, pale cheeks. "That can't be true."
"Think about it."
I could practically see her mind turning, and her blush darkened. The woman basically jumped me on the rare occasion that she got drunk, and I was more than willing to let her.
The smell of her desire thickened.
"I need to go for a run," she said, changing the subject.
"How are your feet?"
The face she made saidnot great.
"You're not running."
"Do you have a better idea?"
I met her gaze without speaking.
