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“I keep replaying every moment, every glance, every conversation we’ve had. Wondering what might be next,” he adds, eyes locked onto mine. He steps closer, gently taking the mug from my hands and placing it on the counter. His touch sends a shiver down my spine, and I can feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Bradley,” I whisper, barely audible.

He reaches up, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch is electric, sending tingles down my neck. I’m frozen, lost in his gaze. The intensity of his stare is almost too much, but I can’t look away. I’m completely captivated. Bradley grabs my chin, tilting my head up to meet his eyes.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this,” he mutters, abruptly letting go. “Go to bed, Amelia. It’s late,” he says, looking torn.

“No,” I say firmly. I need to know more. I want to be desired. I crave a love like Xavier and Isla’s. I may be naïve, but I am not stupid. I’m attracted to him. I have been since I was fourteen.

“Amelia, go,” he repeats, softer now.

“No, Brad. Not until you explain what you meant,” I say, hand on my hip, determination fueling my words.

He repeats, “I shouldn’t want this.”

“Shouldn’t wantwhat?” I ask again, surprising even myself.

“I shouldn’t want tokissyou,” he finally says, voice deep and gravelly. “Ever since you mentioned you haven’t been kissed, it’s all I can think about. Part of me wants to be the first to give that to you.”

Holy cow. Bradley Mitchell wants tokissme?

“What if I want you to kiss me?” I ask, my voice surprisingly steady. It’s not like me to be so forward. A muscle in his jaw ticks, and his eyes become hooded. He steps closer, and my breathing hitches. But before he can close the distance, the sound of a door opening breaks the spell.

I gasp, quickly grabbing my mug and dumping its contents in the sink as I walk away. Glancing back, I see Bradley watching me, his expression unreadable. Then he turns away.

Imogen appears out of nowhere, exiting the bathroom with a sleep mask around her neck and her hair slightly dishevelled. She spots me and sucks in a breath.

“Shit! You scared me!” she whispers.

“Sorry,” I mutter quickly. Imogen gives me a curious look, but then walks back to her bedroom. My God, that was close. She could have easily seen us in the kitchen.

I quickly head into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I splash water on my face and neck, trying to cool my nerves. My heart is racing.

I should get to bed. Tomorrow is a new day. I should focus on that and forget everything that just happened. It’s for the best—for me, for Bradley, and for Olivia. My face scrunches up at the thought of my best friend.

But God, how I want him to kiss me. To feel his lips on mine. The thought makes my stomach flip, and I feel a longing I’ve never felt before.

Ugh. Just stop, Amelia.

I take a deep breath and leave the bathroom, cautiously checking around before closing the door. I make my way to my room, but just as I reach for the handle, the door adjacent to mine opens. Bradley steps out, and before I can react, he gently grabs my arm and pulls me into his room.

“Brad—” I whisper-shout, my heart pounding. “What are you doing?”

“What I should have done before,” he replies, eyes locking onto mine. Before I can process his words, he moves closer, his intent clear. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he declares, his voice firm.

It’s not a question; it’s a statement.

“But I-I don’t know how,” I stutter.

“I’ll show you. Just follow my lead,” he says, his voice softening. My eyes widen, but I nod slowly, unable to form any coherent words.

Then, his hand is caressing my cheek, and his lips press against mine, soft at first, testing the waters. I respond by leaning into him, running my hands slowly up his sides, across his sculpted chest. A low groan erupts from deep in his chest, and he deepens the kiss, sending shivers down my spine.

It’s intense—so intense and passionate.

Bradley’s lips are firm yet gentle, moving with a confidence that makes me feel safe. He tastes like mint and something distinctly him. When his tongue brushes against my lower lip, asking for entrance, I part my lips, welcoming him. His hands cup my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks softly, contrasting with the passionate way hismouth claims mine. A deep, rumbling growl escapes him, vibrating against my lips. I can feel the heat radiating off his body, and it’s overwhelming in the best way possible. He hums softly against my mouth, the sound of approval and pleasure making my heart race even faster.

I don’t know what I’m doing, but he makes it easy, guiding me with every movement, and I willingly follow, mimicking his actions. His touch is a blazing fire, consuming me, and I melt into him. My mind spins, thoughts jumbled as I try to process the overwhelming sensations. All I know is that I never want this to end.