A grin floated up from somewhere behind my sternum, the walls seeming to sway with the sweet ebb and swell of my thoughts. “You tellin’ me to put that mouth to better use?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
I fell on top of him—covered his mouth with mine, my hips between his thighs. He arched to press closer, opening for me, his hands in my hair. Time slipped away like sand. Not sure when he rolled us over and worked his way down my chest and stomach, kissed my hip bone and the inside of my thigh. The room tilted when his lips closed around me.
“You don’t have to,” I managed, and his laugh was a hot gust of air that made me shiver.
“I want to, J. How do you not know that by now?” Something about his tone twisted hot through me. I propped myself up on my elbows to watch him—his cocky smirk at odds with an aching softness around the corners.
“I’m just…” I paused for breath. “Checking. Being considerate.”
His eyes went liquid. “The answer’s yes. It’s always yes.”
I love you.
It rose out of nowhere—a puzzle piece clicking into place because oh, yes. Yeah. That made sense, didn’t it? And maybe it should scare me, maybe tomorrow it would, but right now, it felt like the quiet after a storm.
I dragged him up into a kiss as the world melted around the edges.
Morning crept in like a thief, stealing through gaps between the curtains and squeezing into the quiet corners of my mind.
Finn. Where?—?
Oh. Curls tickling my nose, my arm heavy around his chest. Still here. He’d said he would be—wispy memory of last night, the city painting a dim glow across the sheets, shadows tangling with my thoughts. “Stay?” I’d asked, lips catching on his throat, tasting salt.
“Yeah.” He’d shifted—into me, not away, his voice a sleepy murmur. “Course.”
“Good,” I’d said. Then…nothing much. Just that gentle sense of falling, spiraling in easy circles toward a velvet kind of black. Sleep, then.
Well, I was awake now. Still a little hazy, reality slipping through in fragments—the rise and fall of Finn’s chest under my hand, the way light caught on the slope of his shoulder.
I’m in love with you.
The thought tasted bright and tart on my tongue, fresh and familiar at once, as if it had been quietly living inside me for a while now. Not scary, just inevitable, even if I didn’t know what to do with it. Tell him? He had a string of shitty exes and didn’t want to fall right back into a relationship—had told me himself that he was trying to get out of the habit. I also still had to evaluate him after yesterday’s surgery. Could I even do it?
He stirred, voice sleep-rough. “Stop thinking so loudly.”
I tucked a smile against the back of his neck, tightening my hold. “File a noise complaint.”
“Paperwork?” He yawned with pointed emphasis, then half-turned his head to squint at me, his lashes crushed at the corners. “Rude.”
“Life’s not a jukebox. Can’t just press a button and it’ll play you exactly the song you want.”
“Obviously. If it were, there’d be coffee.”
“Well.” I brushed my thumb over the faint dip above his sternum. “I may just be able to help with that.”
He rolled onto his back, the sheet dipping to reveal the fine trail of hair below his navel. Sleep and daylight tangled in his smile. “Is this your way of saying thanks for last night’s orgasm?”
“That was nice, but no.” I rose on one elbow to watch him. “It’s my way of saying thanks for being here this morning.”
He blinked, eyes gone soft. “Oh. Okay.”
Keep it light.
I raised an eyebrow. “Eloquent.”
His lips twitched. “Coffee first. Then full sentences.”
