“Pretty much.” His laughter is warm, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
It allows the doubt to settle, and I relax into him, my head tipping back to rest on his shoulder.
“So,” I say after a moment, tracing lazy patterns on his chest, “you’re the striker on the Beckford U team, handy at putting together flat packs, and a phenomenal kisser. What else should I know about you, Mr Overthinker?”
“Phenomenal kisser, hmm?” He smirks, running his thumb over my lips.
“Focus,” I chastise, swatting his chest. “I need to know you’re worth my time.”
His grin widens, and he shakes his head. “You’re adorable when you’re bossy.”
I arch a brow in response.
“Okay,” he says, his body shaking with laughter. “Let me think… I make a mean risotto, I live on coffee, and I’m way better at late-night talks than early mornings.”
“Early mornings suck,” I agree, nodding my approval.
“Perfect,” he says, booping my nose. “We’ll get along just fine.”
“Going back to the phenomenal kissing…”
“Uh-uh,” he says, shaking his head. “My turn to find out the important things about you.”
I huff an exaggerated sigh. “I’d much rather the kissing.”
His lips quirk into an amused smile. “I’m sure you would.”
“What do you want to know?”
He taps his chin, pretending to think. “Hmm… What are the deal-breakers?”
I poke him in the side, and he squirms, shooting me the most devastatingly heart-melting grin.
“Favourite colour, favourite holiday destination, and your favourite thing about being a mum.”
My stomach flips. Ever since finding out about Tinsley, Blake hasn’t shied away from the fact that I have a daughter, and I once again find myself wondering if he’s real.
Swallowing, I meet his gaze as I say, “Purple, the French Riviera, and watching her laugh like the world hasn’t taught her to be careful yet.”
For a moment, he just looks at me, something soft and imperceptible crossing his face.
“That might be the best answer I’ve ever heard,” he says, his voice husky.
My cheeks warm. “It’s true.”
He lifts a hand to tuck my hair behind my ear, and I lean into his touch as he murmurs, “Lucky kid.”
There’s something deeper behind his words, but before I can contemplate what it is, he leans in and kisses me. My fingers tangle in his shirt, pulling him closer.Every brush of his lips sends sparks up my spine, and I press against him, losing myself in the way he makes me feel.
When he finally breaks the kiss, he rests his forehead against mine, his breaths uneven. His thumb traces lazy circles along my jaw.
“Still overthinking?” he teases.
I shake my head, my pulse racing as a smile tugs at my lips. “Not even a little.”
“Good.” He presses a kiss to my forehead.
I stifle a yawn, and Blake checks his watch, cursing when he sees it’s past one in the morning.
