I forget how to breathe.
He doesn’t move away.
His thumb traces lightly along my jaw.
“I needed to do that without an audience,” he says quietly.
The courthouse flashes in my mind. The clerk. The parents. Maddie whispering.
This is different.
This is ours.
He waits.
He gives me space to step back.
I don’t.
His mouth finds mine.
Slow.
Deeper than before.
Not frantic.
Intentional.
My fingers curl into the waistband of his sweatpants before I can stop myself.
He makes a low sound in his throat.
His hands slide to my waist.
Heat blooms.
This isn’t strategy.
This isn’t polite.
This is dangerous.
And then Daisy barks.
Loud.
Right behind us.
We jump apart.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, half laughing, half mortified.
Gabriel drags a hand down his face.
“Cockblocked by a poodle,” he mutters.
I choke on a laugh.
