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“That’s three conditions.”

“I’m thorough.”

“I’ve noticed.”

His mouth tips up at one corner. That small, crooked, rusty-door smile I’ve only gotten to see a handful of times.

“Do we have a deal, Mrs. Kane?”

Mrs. Kane.

He’s never called me that.

The way he says it, low and a little rough, it doesn’t sound like a title on a piece of paper. It sounds a little dirty and filled with promises he hasn’t made yet.

“Deal,” I whisper.

He kisses me again. Slower this time. Softer. Like he’s sealing it.

When it ends, he doesn’t let go. He just stands there, holding me, his chin resting on top of my head the way it did downstairs, and I listen to his heartbeat gradually slow under my ear.

“Noelle,” he murmurs into my hair.

“Hmm?”

“Stay.”

One word.

Shiloh said it to me once, from a bed full of dinosaurs, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

His father says it like it’s the hardest.

I think about my cold bedroom twenty feet down the hall. About the ornament still lying on the floor by the tree. About Grandma, who would be scandalized and absolutely delighted, probably in equal measure.

I lean back far enough to look up at him.

“Okay,” I say.

chapter

sixteen

Maverick

I’m still trying to process what’s happening. But she’s right there. Standing in my bedroom in an oversized sleep shirt, bare feet on my rug, her hair a mess from my hands, her mouth swollen from mine. Looking up at me like she isn’t the least bit afraid of what happens next.

I am. Not of her. Of this. But rather how badly I want it. Of how long I’ve been pretending I didn’t.

I’m still holding the towel with one hand, like a fucking idiot, like it’s the last part of the contract I have left. My other hand is resting on her hip. I can feel the warmth of her through the thin cotton. The small, quick rise and fall of her breathing.

“You’re thinking,” she whispers.

“Yes.”

“Can you stop?”

A laugh catches in my chest. “I’m trying.”