Her face lights up when she sees me.
And something inside my chest cracks open.
“Hi,” she says, smiling.
God.
I don’t even think.
I just move.
I cross the space between us in three strides and drop down behind her.
My arms wrap around her before she can react.
She lets out a soft gasp.
“Jake—”
I bury my face in her neck.
Her skin is warm. Soft. Familiar.
She smells like soap and paint and something that is entirely her.
I breathe her in like I’ve been holding my breath all night.
“You’re home,” she murmurs, laughing softly.
“Obviously,” I mutter against her skin.
My arms tighten around her waist.
She wiggles slightly. “You’re squishing me.”
“Good.”
She laughs again.
“You’ve been drinking,” she says.
“Little bit.”
“How many is a little bit?”
“Two.”
She hums skeptically.
My hands slide over her stomach and settle there, fingers splayed against the soft cotton of the shirt she’s wearing.
She turns her head slightly, trying to see my face.
“Did you have fun?”
I think about the bar.
The noise.
