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“Yours.”
“Brat.”
She laughs again and something inside me loosens.
This isn’t supposed to feel like this.
I thought wanting somebody this much would feel dangerous.
Instead it feels easy.
Not the same easy I was afraid of this morning.
Not temporary.
Not fake.
Just right.
I press her against the wall near my bed. For once, I don’t have a smart-ass thing to say.
I touch her cheek. “You’re beautiful.”
Her eyes widen. “What?”
“Don’t make it weird.” I say.
“You just said something nice.”
“I say nice things.” I defend.
“You absolutely do not.” She laughs.
“Take it back, then.”
“No.”
She catches my hand. “Say it again.”
I smile. “Greedy.”
“Ryder.”
“You’re fucking beautiful, Clara.”
She kisses me. And this time neither of us stops.
The rest happens slowly.
A kiss.
A whispered question.
Her quiet yes.
Another kiss.
Her fingers locked with mine.
