I grin. “Nah. I was thinking more along the lines of finally getting a girlfriend.”
Her eyebrows lift, teasing. “Oh? You sure about that?”
“Pretty sure,” I say, stepping closer until there’s barely an inch between us. “Unless she’s planning to break up with me before dinner.”
She laughs, the sound warm and light in the cold. “Depends where you’re taking me.”
“Somewhere with food,” I murmur, leaning in just enough for her breath to brush my cheek. “And if I play my cards right, I’m hoping for some dessert. I love me some sugar.”
Her laugh catches, softer this time. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe,” I say, my smile fading into something slower. “But I’m yours.”
Before she can reply, I close the space between us and press my lips against hers. She relaxes against me, and I sweep my tongue over her lips, and she opens for me.
Her soft moan escapes, and I find myself rocking against her, forgetting where we are or who could see us.
When we finally pull apart, she’s still smiling, cheeks flushed pink.
“So,” I say, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Dinner?”
She shakes her head. “Yeah. Dinner.”
She laughs again, and I decide I could live off that sound instead.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Tessa
I can’t remember the last time I felt this light.
It’s late, after eleven now, but the diner carries an easy warmth that makes the rest of the world feel far away.
For the first time, I’m sitting across from Clay in public as a couple. There’s no more hiding, no more pretending we’re something we’re not. Our relationship was leaked to the public tonight, and when he was asked about it, he claimed me as his, without hesitation. I didn’t realize how much I needed that until now.
My phone buzzes on the table beside me—again. The screen lights up with more missed texts. My parents. Steven. By now, I don’t doubt they’ve already seen the interview.
I don’t want them to worry, so aside from sending them a text to let them know I’m okay, I don’t read their messages, and I don’t say anything further.
Right now, I just want to sit here with Clay, listening to the scrape of his fork against the plate and the quiet rumble of his laugh. For once, I don’t want to let the outside noise in.
Tonight, I want to soak in this feeling of it just being us. I want to stay at this moment a little longer before the world catches up.
Clay insists on paying for dinner even though I argue half-heartedly that I owe him, since we are celebrating his win, too, after all. He just smirks, drops a few bills on the table, and mutters something about taking care of me tonight.
Outside, the cold hits hard enough to burn my cheeks, but his hand finds mine before we even make it to the truck. He doesn’t let go. Not as we drive through the streets and not when we climb the steps to his apartment.
The second we step inside, the air shifts.
It’s warmer here, dim light spilling from the kitchen, and the faint smell of his cologne still hanging in the air. My pulse picks up before the door even clicks shut behind us.
Clay turns toward me, his jacket unzipped, his expression dark and unreadable. For a beat, neither of us moves. Then I take a step closer. Just one, and that’s all it takes.
His hands find my waist, pulling me in until there’s no space left between us. I forget how to breathe as his lips crash on mine in a punishing kiss, like he’s been holding it in all night.
We stumble backward, and a breathless laugh escapes my lips until my back hits the wall. The sound that slips from him is more of a growl than a moan, and it sends a rush through me that’s hotter than the air between us.
His mouth finds mine again, deeper this time, and his fingers slide into my hair, anchoring me there like he can’t stand the thought of letting go.
