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She rises onto her toes and kisses me back. Her hands shake when they slide beneath my shirt.

Mine aren’t much steadier.

She notices. “You’re nervous.”

“Don’t ruin my reputation.”

She smiles against my mouth. “I kind of like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I kiss the corner of her mouth.

Her cheek.

Her jaw.

She relaxes against me.

Every time her body tightens, I slow down.

Every time she pulls me closer, I follow.

There isn’t a damn thing rushed about it.

I waited twelve years.

She waited twenty-eight.

We can take another minute.

I brush her hair away from her face. “Look at me.”

She does.

“Still yes?”

Her smile is small. “Yes.”

I kiss her again. She laughs when I lift her, arms tightening around my shoulders.

“Show-off.”

“You like it.”

“Maybe.”

“Liar.”

I carry her down the hall.

She kisses my neck and I nearly walk into the fucking wall.

“Careful.”

“Whose fault is that?”