He cocked his head and gave me that heart-stopping grin.
"I was hungry and figured you were ah, coming by." Words stumbled out of my mouth as I tried to ignore the warm rush of blood to my face. "I could, you know, share. It's kind of a lot of food."
"This is starting to feel like a special occasion." One eyebrow quirked up.
"No, not uh"—I tried to remember how to breathe— "not much of one?"
"Notmuchof one?"
"Life should have more special occasions in general. But that’s a story for another time. Do you want food or not?" I huffed and practically ran to the kitchen.
He followed. I felt him, his presence. Smelled the woodsy musk of his cologne with the faint note of leather. Part of me ached, hungered, down to the core of my being…to touch him, hold him. To feel his arms curled around me.
"I'm torn between asking what 'found Thai food' means, exactly? And just being grateful for small miracles." His voice rumbled; so familiar now. Warm, deep, throaty. It made my insides wobble and start to melt.
"If a food truck counts as a miracle," I laughed as I pulled the covered bowls from the microwave. Then turned to ask him to grab a few paper towels…Only to get caught in his gaze again. And I couldn’t help it.
I kissed him.
Awkward and on tiptoe, I just pressed my lips to his. He leaned down, his mouth slanted over mine, and kissed me back. I clutched his arm to keep upright. His hand behind my neck ignited a series of electric charges through my chest, urging my heart to beat faster.
The kiss broke. I watched his face, waiting to see any reaction, but the giddiness of him returning my kiss bubbled through my veins like a sugar-filled caffeinated soda.
He pulled away, a soft smile curved his lips. "Makes up for all the hell…" His face crumpled into a scowl.
"Maddox?"
He shook his head and picked up one of the bowls. "Just hungry."
The effervescent bubbling tapered off and then fell. I sat quietly beside him on the floor. Our bowls on the coffeetable, we ate without a word—every passing silent moment gnawed at my certainty.But he’s here. We kissed. This is right.
An aching feeling bit into my stomach and scratched nails over the surface of my heart. I stood and took the bowls back to the kitchen. Paused to draw in a few deep breaths before returning to the small living area. He’d moved to the couch, his keys and phone on the table. I willed words to move from my brain to my tongue as I sat beside him. "Your first preseason game is coming up."
"Away game," he grumbled. Then, softer, "You don’t like football."
I rolled my eyes. "I want to work in sports. And Ilikefootball. There are just other sports I like better."Mostly because my father and brother are too obsessed with it.And are always too busy to come to my games.
"Same thing."
I huffed. "Maybe I’ll like it more watchingyouplay."
His eyes practically glowed. "Mm. You’re probably hopeless."
I shoved his shoulder. He chuckled and didn't even pretend I could move him.
"Fine, I won’t watch you play. Is that what you want?"
His eyes narrowed as his mouth turned down. "I don't get to have"— he pushed hair behind my ear—"what I want."
I didn't understand what he meant, and I didn't want to. I took a rushed, heady breath as hot and cold flashed through my body. Iwantedhim, wanted to be with him. To be his.This is my chance.
Before he could pull away, I leaned into him, pressing a soft, slow kiss to his lips. He folded his arm around me, pulling me closer as our mouths met. Heat sunk through my skin, settling deep in my abdomen. Simmering,bubbling, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pushing him back into the cushions of the sofa.
His hands moved up to my shoulders, holding me against him as his tongue slipped into my mouth. I slid over his lap and kissed him back with everything I had. My skin ignited, my body ached. It was almost a relief when his fingers grazed the curve of my breast.
My heart soared as the rest of my senses were overrun. The sweet and spicy flavor of him, the woodsy and green scent of his musk. I crushed myself to him, delighting in the feel of his embrace. Ice washed over my skin even as fire spread beneath it.
He’d been so protective, had done so much for me in the few months we’d known each other. He’d sent me flowers when my All-American selection had been announced. He'd been there when I confronted Ash.
