He steps even closer, hands framing my face, gentle, and asks, “Can I kiss you?”
“Please.”
He kisses me, and it’s different from every other kiss. Not desperate or hungry or performative. It’s anchoring. It’s choosing each other.
“Come on,” he says, squeezing my hand. “Let’s get you warm.”
And for the first time, I realize: wherever he is, that’s home.
Chapter 28
Izzy
“Where’s my other boot?” Jack mutters, crouched beside my bed to look under it.
“Where you left it?” I call from the bathroom, trying—and failing—to fix my eyeliner for the third time.
“That’s not helpful.”
I pop into the doorway, holding the boot he kicked off somewhere between the front door and the hallway. To his credit, he was carrying me to the bedroom at the time. I hate when he has road trips, but I love when he comes home.
To me.
Jack peeks up, his dimples fully present. “It’s a miracle!”
“I know.” I shrug and head back to the bathroom before that grin of his convinces me that we should just cancel tonight and stay in for New Year’s. We’ve tried to leave twice already and keep getting distracted.
I’m wrestling with a mascara wand when he appears in the doorway, not even a minute later.
“Izzy, sweetheart.” His hands swoop around my waist and draw me in close.
“Jack.”
“Izzy.”
“We’re already late.”
“So what’s five more minutes?”
“I’ve heard that already and...” He bends forward to kiss my neck, his teeth gently nipping at the delicate skin. I struggle to finish that thought. “We’re going to be late.”
He clicks his hooded eyes up to meet my stare in the mirror, his warm breath sweeping over my skin. “Look at us, Isla.” I never knew blue eyes could be so warm, so full of fire. “Where do you want me? My knees? Tell me, and you can have it. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
A shaky breath escapes me, my pulse racing. I tilt my head back over my shoulder, our bodies still pressed together in front of the bathroom mirror.We should go… The thought disappears nearly as quickly as when his lips meet mine in a greedy, slow kiss.
It’s annoying how much I love this man. I told him I wouldn’t even get a Slurpee with him a few months ago, and now look at me… how completely ruined I am for anyone else.
This is it.
With a low growl in his throat, Jack breaks our kiss. “But you’re right, we should go.” He catches my hand, straightens up, and places a soft kiss in my palm. “You changed again. Are you nervous?”
I chuckle, trying to find my center. “Maybe.”
“That’s your third outfit. You just need to be warm.”
“I don’t know what to wear.” I’m flustered, and okay, maybe the corner of my mouth twitches because, fine, yes, he’s right. They’re all some variation of leggings and a sweater.
“You look incredible in all of them,” he says, eyes raking over me again. “So what’s wrong?”
