"What?" Nathan said.
"You said boyfriend," I said.
Nathan was already walking ahead of me, and I had to jog to catch up with him.
"He asked a question," Nathan said. "I answered it. You are my boyfriend. I don't see what the issue is."
Nathan Cross, my boyfriend, walking in the sand like he had said a completely normal thing and was moving on, as if he hadn't just used that word in public without checking anything first.
My hand found his.
He didn't check anything.
Just let it happen, the way things happened now, the way Nathan Cross had apparently decided things were going to happen from here on, which was without management and without checking and without the correct professional framework for what this was.
We walked like that for about thirty seconds before I stopped.
Nathan stopped too and turned back.
"What?”
Nathan Cross.
My boyfriend.
He had no idea how much I wanted him right then.
"We need to go back to the room," I said.
A beat.
"Now.”
Something happened in his expression. I could tell by the expression on his face that he was understanding what I was saying and making a decision about it in approximately one second.
"Yes," he said.
We went back to the room.
Not slowly.
The door clicked shut behind us.
We looked at each other.
Nathan put his water bottle down on the counter. Very deliberately. Like he was putting something down so his hands would be free.
Then his mouth was on mine. His hands were already at my jaw, thumbs stroking like he couldn’t stop touching. I shoved him backward toward the bathroom without breaking the kiss. The deep soaking tub was already filling, water roaring from the high-pressure faucet exactly like he’d noted on day one, steam curling up around the edges. He’d planned this. The thought sent a fresh spike of heat through me.
“Nathan,” I gasped against his lips, fingers working open the buttons of his shirt with zero patience.
“Mmm.” He tasted the word more than said it, tongue sliding against mine, slow and filthy.
“You’ve been thinking about this.”
“The tub has excellent pressure,” he murmured, voice already rougher than usual. “I noted it on day one.”
“Nathan.”
