“Okay,” I hum to myself.
There’s a knock at the door, and I open it without thinking.
Gage stands on my doorstep looking like every girl’s fantasy. Or maybe just mine.
One arm braced high against the doorframe, the other planted on the opposite side with his hair damp and pushed back from his face. Sun-kissed cheeks and a faint line of freckles across his nose like he spent all morning in the water.
Why does this man have to be so goddamn attractive?
“Hey.” I sound more breathless than I should, especially considering his brother’s face was pressed up against my ass last night.
“Hey, Bell.” His mouth tilts. Then his hands slide up along my jaw, fingers curving behind my ears, anchoring at the nape of my neck as he tilts my head back just enough—and then his mouth is on mine.
He kisses me slowly. Deliberately. Like he’s forgotten the shape of my mouth and is determined to commit it to memory.
I let go of the door, my fingers curling instinctively around his wrists. I don’t know if I’m holding onto him or pulling him closer.
He pulls back just enough for me to see the self-satisfied smile playing around his mouth.
“What was that for?” I try to steady my voice as my gaze darts to the side.
His grin melts into something boyish, all rogue charm. “I’m an idiot.”
I blink at him. “Is that a full statement, or?—”
“I’ve been waiting weeks to do that.”
I wet my lips and let my hands fall from his lips. “Then don’t wait so long next time.”
His eyes flick to my mouth like that was exactly the answer he wanted. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I bite back my grin.
He leans in again, quicker this time, stealing another kiss—shorter, but no less sure—like a promise he fully intends to collect on later.
“You wanna go on an adventure?”
My chest tightens the same way it used to when we were younger, when that sentence meant anything from driving nowhere with the windows down, salt air whipping through our hair, to sneaking into the abandoned lighthouse after dark.
The kind of trouble that always felt worth it. The rush of adrenaline mixing with laughter and the thrill of being caught.
“With you?” A smile pulls at my mouth before I can stop it. “Yeah. I definitely do.”
His grin does something to his face that I don’t let myself look at for too long.
“Good.”
“Am I okay like this, or do I need to change for this adventure?”
He drags that molten gaze of his over my tank top and down my legs and jean shorts and all the way back up again. “You’re perfect.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to squash the stupid, cheesy grin that tries to spring free at the easy way he said those two words.
“Let me grab my stuff.” I throw my purse over my head and shove my feet into sneakers—I’ve learned to always be prepared for a Calloway adventure.
He’s exactly where I left him: standing on the threshold, leaning into my house like he’s some kind of vampire that needs to be invited inside.
The thought pulls a laugh out of me just as he steps back to let me through the doorway.
