She looked up at me like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to shove me away or pull me closer. Her knees brushed the sides of my thighs, accidental or not, and every muscle in my body went tight. I’d spent years pretending I didn’t notice every little thing she did—how she smelled like vanilla and coffee, how her pulse fluttered in her throat when she got flustered, how her breath always quickened right before she said something honest.
Now all of that was three inches from my mouth.
“Ask me,” I repeated, my voice low enough to vibrate between us.
Her fingers curled nervously against the edge of the counter, but she didn’t move away. If anything, she leaned in a fraction, like her body made the decision before her brain could protest. The hem of her shirt brushed my wrist, soft cotton catching on my skin, and that tiny point of contact damn near unraveled me.
I wasn’t touching her—not really—but I felt her everywhere. In the quick rise and fall of her chest. In the warm puff of her breath ghosting over my jaw. In the way her gaze kept flicking to my mouth before snapping back to my eyes.
I’d dreamed about her looking at me like this. I’d had whole nights ruined imagining what it would feel like to be close enough to count every one of her eyelashes.
Now I didn’t have to imagine.
Her hands finally lifted, hesitating before they landed on my forearms. When her fingers slid around my sleeves—light, tentative, like she expected me to pull away—my entire heart thudded to a stop. Anything she touched on me came alive.
Her voice came out quieter. “Noah…why does it matter?”
I swallowed hard, leaning in until my forehead nearly touched hers.
“Because,” I whispered. My thumb skimmed her cheekbone, barely there, but she shivered. “I spent the entire year building up the courage to ask you out. I wasn’t withanyonethat whole time. I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you. That night at the Ferris wheel? Jesus, Em, it was everything I fucking dreamed about in college, but you weren’t ready. I was your friend, and you leaned on me, trusted me. I couldn’t fuck that up, not when you were so upset about your stupid-ass ex and family. I couldn’t be someone who hurt you, so I stayed in that zone. And yes, I should’ve called you. I know. I fucking realize that, but I wasnervous.You never saw me that way in college, so why would you now? So I hesitated, okay? And then life hit me in the fucking face. Training camp turned into a trip that turned into a nightmare when my sister died. So why does this matter?”
I laughed, but it was pained. I cupped her face, noting her wide eyes and shock. “Because I’ve beendyingtonight thinking about you with some other guy who doesn’t deserve you.”
Her mouth opened and closed a few times. No sound came out. I’d seen Em speechless maybe twice in my life. This made three.
“You…” she finally whispered. “You wanted…me?”
“Yeah, Em.” My voice came out rough. “It’s always been you. How could you not know?”
For one long, suspended second, I thought she was going to shove me away. Tell me I’d read everything wrong. Tell me I’d ruined my chance. Instead, she grabbed the front of my shirt and yanked.
Her mouth crashed into mine so hard our teeth bumped. I grunted, more shocked than hurt, and then my brain shut off completely.
Em. I was kissing Em.My Em.
She tasted so damn good, like mint and whiskey. She made this desperate little sound in the back of her throat, and myknees almost buckled. Her fingers fisted in my shirt, dragging me closer like this was something she’d fantasized about for years too.
“God, Noah,” she breathed against my mouth. “Youidiot.”
“Yes, I’ll be your idiot,” I muttered and kissed her back, nipping her lips, feeling how full and soft they were.
Years of holding back hit all at once. There was nothing careful about it, nothing slow. I slid my hands to her hips—finally touching her, actually touching her—and she sucked in a sharp breath. Then she wrapped her legs around my waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I swore under my breath, bracing a hand on the counter so I didn’t slam her into the cabinets. She was everywhere—soft thighs squeezing my sides, fingers in my hair, those little gasps that made my whole body light up. I curled my other hand around the back of her neck and tilted her closer, deepening the kiss until we were both half chasing, half colliding.
She clung to me like she’d been waiting just as long. Nails scratching lightly at the nape of my neck. Mouth opening under mine, bold and greedy.
“Em,” I groaned, because I didn’t know what else to say, because her name was the only thing my brain still knew.
She smiled against my mouth, breathless. “God, kiss me harder. I needmore.”
I laughed into the next kiss, the sound breaking apart when she rolled her hips the slightest bit, and every single nerve ending I had went on high alert. Heat shot straight through me, sharp and dizzying.
“Careful,” I rasped, forehead pressed to hers for a second to breathe. We were both panting like we’d sprinted a hundred yards. “I’m hanging on by a thread here.”
“Good,” she whispered, dragging me back in. “You deserve to suffer.”
I would’ve happily suffered like that for hours. I was already addicted. The way she tasted, the way she fit against me, the way nothing in my life had ever made this much sense.
