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“That’s what I told Nikko.”

“Griffin.”

“What?”

“Look at me.”

He turns his head. His mouth is a straight line, but his eyes give him away entirely.

“Something on your mind, Foster?”

“You’re playing with fire.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I promised your brother I’d drop you at the farm. I’m a man of my word.”

“Griffin.”

“It’s a beautiful night for a drive out to the Farm. A little cold. A little snowy. Very romantic in a platonic, taking-my-brother’s-bandmate-home kind of way.”

I reach across the console and catch his wrist. He doesn’t fight me back. The corners of his mouth are working overtime, trying hard not to give him away, and knowing he wants this as much as I do makes my heart thump in my ribcage.

“Finn?”

“Yes, Foster?”

I lean across the center console and kiss him.

He makes a small, surprised sound into my mouth, and then he’s kissing me back. His hand comes up to the back of my neck and holds me there. He tastes like beer and early Christmas.

When I pull back, his eyes are dark. The teasing has gone out of his face.

“That wasn’t playing fair,” he mutters.

“When you play with fire, you get burned.”

“I was enjoying myself.”

“I noticed.”

“Also, I was giving you the chance to actually ask for what you want.”

“Take me to your apartment, Griffin.”

“That’s better.”

“Then you can give me a ride.” I wiggle my eyebrows.

He snorts and then looks at me for a second longer before shifting the car into Drive.

“Fox.”

“Yeah?”

“Buckle your seatbelt.”

The distance from the bar to his apartment is barely long enough to be called a drive.

I put my hand on his thigh and feel the muscles working every time Finn brakes. He hits every yellow light like it personally offended him. By the time we get to the curb outside his building, he doesn’t bother parking straight. He kills the engine and drags me out of the car.