I’m never going to get enough
Night has settledin without either of us noticing. The fire’s low and lazy, painting soft light across her face like even the flames know she’s the best thing in the room.
We’ve melted into the couch, shoulder to shoulder, her thigh brushing mine every time she shifts. I lean back, whiskyin hand, but I’m not tasting any of it. My head is still lost in that kiss and whatever the hell comes next.
I can still feel the drag of her lips on mine, slow and sweet and goddamn dangerous. Like she’d been holding that kiss back for years and finally let it loose just to ruin me.
“This evening was perfect,” she says, her fingers running absently through Beastie’s fur.
I try like hell not to smile but fail miserably. “Does perfect mean I get to ask for a second date?”
She arches an eyebrow. “I don’t know. Are you already asking me out again? There are rules, you know.”
“Mm. I’m not aware of these rules.”
“Well, you’re supposed to wait a few days before calling me again. But don’t wait too long, or I’ll think you’re not interested anymore.”
I lean in slightly, my gaze locking onto hers. “Screw the rules, lass. I want to see you again.”
It’s not polished. Hell, I’m bordering on desperate, but it’s the truth. She doesn’t even flinch.
“Okay.” She says it like I didn’t just throw every line I swore I wouldn’t cross right out the window.
“Okay?” I echo, because apparently I need to hear it twice.
She grins. “Yep. I’m all yours.”
Christ. I’m done for, even though I know better. There are things I haven’t told her, but right now, she’s looking at me like I’m the safest place she’s ever been.
I can’t help it. I reach for her, tugging her into my chest like maybe if I hold her close enough, I won’t screw this up.
She fits. All warm limbs and silky hair. Citrus and sunshine cling to her, and I breathe it in like I’m starving for it.
Then she laughs. Perfectly. Effortlessly.
“I can’t tell you the last time I had this much fun on a date, let alone a first date,” sheconfesses.
I’m surprised by that. A simple, laid-back night with just the two of us is everything I could ask for, though I wasn’t sure it was her style. “Who the hell have you been dating that this impressed you so much?”
A pained expression flashes across her face. “I guess you haven’t heard about my ex.”
The second she says it, I know I’ve poked at something that should’ve been left alone. I clear my throat. “Ah, no. We don’t need to talk about it.”
She gives me a small smile, a quiet kind of resignation in her gaze. “No, it’s okay,” she says softly. “His name was James. We met in college, dated forever, got engaged and moved in together. Did all the things you’re supposed to do when you think you’ve got forever figured out.”
I stay quiet and let her have the space to tell it however she needs to. Her eyes drift toward the fire, glassy with the kind of faraway ache I wish like hell I could erase. And then she rests her head on my shoulder.
“We were supposed to get married soon,” she says almost in a whisper. “As in…now. But a month ago, I came home early and found him with someone else. Someone who wasn’t me.”
My gut twists, anger flaring hot and useless in my chest. Beneath it, something heavier lodges itself in my ribs.
I want to protect her from the memories and the way that wince crosses her face like she’s trying not to flinch at her own story.
“Needless to say,” she adds with a faint, dry laugh, “I moved back into my own place. Been figuring myself out since.”
I shake my head, my voice rougher than I mean it to be. “I’m sorry, Juliette. He sounds like a real bastard.”
That pulls a genuine huff of a laugh from her.
