It might be the reflection from the fire, but Nate’s neck reddens slightly.
“Yes,” he deadpans.
I almost expect him to launch into one of his mythology tangents on how I’m some divine being and should be worshiped at any cost, but luckily, he doesn’t.
Leo would never let him live it down.
Not that I mind the nickname. Being treated like someone’s goddess is pretty dang awesome. And knowing Nate treats me like his whole world has also helped Mason come more to terms with our relationship.
Nate turns his attention back to the box, lifting the lid carefully to find a single midnight-blue glass bead nestled in protective tissue paper.
He inspects the delicate design, turning it on its side to find tiny, lighter-blue dots closely decorating one side, forming an anchor.
“Mads…” He turns it around, studying it from every angle. “You made this?”
“Yup.” I swallow nervously. “It took me three weeks to perfect, but it’s the first glass bead I’ve ever made successfully.”
He cautiously returns it to the box, unclasps his grandmother’s thin gold chain, which he never takes off, and threads it through the bead.
“You don’t have to wear it—” He cuts me off with a chaste kiss.
“I’m never taking it off. I love it, thank you.” His gaze drops as he admires it hanging from his necklace. “This is truly impressive, Mads. How did you even do this?”
“The pottery teacher overheard me talking about how I like to make jewelry. It turns out that she shares the same interests and asked if I’d like to learn how to work with a torch to make glass beads.”
His eyes widen. “Is that even safe?”
“They had to get special permission from my parents, but yeah, it’s safe enough.”
His incredulous laugh doesn’t surprise me. “Your mom actually let you do something you enjoy?”
We’ve spent enough time together these past few weeks that Nate’s patience with my parents is practically nonexistent.
“She likes my jewelry,” I say with a shrug. “I’ve made her a lot. I’m sure she said yes because it benefits her.”
He takes a deep breath, holding back the rant I know is sitting on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he pulls me close. And I’m grateful.
There’s no need to let them ruin our night.
I lift the bead and turn it on its side, showing him the intricate design. “This was challenging for me. I had to learn to steady my hand to make the small design. I used tiny connected dots to make one larger.”
Nate’s eyes are full of admiration. “The anchor looks perfect. I still can’t get over that you made this for me.” He cups my cheek, smiling, studying me for a moment before leaning in andkissing me softly. “Thank you,” he murmurs against my smiling lips.
The deep vibration of his voice sends pulsing waves of heat through my body, awakening the part of me that Nate has stirred many, many times over the past few weeks.
My lips part with a mind of their own, and Nate doesn’t hesitate to take full advantage. He deepens the kiss with a low growling noise as my tongue tangles with his in a way that leaves me dizzy.
I’m completely lost in him.
My heart races, pounding hard against my chest as the skillful stroke of his tongue continues to dance with mine.
Never rushed, like the sloppy make-outs I’ve seen at school.
Even when I feel desperate for him and we can’t keep our hands off each other, he’s still always controlled and skilled.
Maybe I don’t have much to compare it to since he’s the only person I’ve ever kissed, but I’d bet anything that Nate is the best kisser in the world.
“It still shocks me when you take charge and kiss me. I fucking love it,” he mutters, threading his fingers through my hair, pulling me back in, his mouth instantly covering mine again.
