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I nod, lips parted.

He lifts it slowly, and I shiver as the cool air hits my skin. My bra is navy lace, something I wore without thinking. Now, it feels like it matters.

His thumbs trail under the band as he kisses my collarbone. “You’re beautiful, Mandy. So fucking beautiful.”

I shiver. “You’ve seen girls half-naked before.”

“None of them were you.”

I can’t breathe. Can’t think.

He kisses my shoulder and reaches for the clasp. He unhooks it slowly, letting it slide off my arms. I instinctively move to cover my chest.

“Hey.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “Look at me.”

I do.

“You don’t have to hide. Not from me.”

I lower my arms slowly.

“You okay?”

“Just… nervous.”

“We don’t have to do anything,” he says. “We can stop, cuddle, order pizza…”

“I want this,” I interrupt. “I just don’t want to get it wrong.”

He shakes his head. “You can’t. We make the rules.”

I lie back, heart pounding, eyes never leaving his.

He kicks off his shoes and climbs over me, bracing himself so he’s not too heavy.

I reach for the edge of his shirt. “Can I…?”

“Please.”

I finish unbuttoning his shirt I'd already started in the kitchen, and slide it off his shoulders, revealing his chest. There are scars, faint lines and pale marks from hockey hits.

I press a kiss to one near his ribs. “How’d you get this one?”

“Blocked a shot in St. Louis.”

I kiss another. “This one?”

“Stick to the shoulder. Got stitched mid-period.”

“You’re insane.”

“Probably.”

I smile. My hands explore slowly as I want to remember everything. Learn him.

I trail my fingers across his chest, slow and deliberate. “You always this tense when a girl’s got you half-naked?”

He nods, jaw tight. “You’re killing me.”