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Halfway around, he stops me when his hands land on my waist. But he doesn’t say anything, just gathers my hair up and rests it over my shoulder, probably so he can take a better look at his name.

The silence between us is tense and I close my eyes, every muscle in my body squeezing in anticipation.

“It’s way too big.” I sigh and turn back around to face him.

He grasps a handful of the jersey, shaking his head. “I’d say it was meant for you.” The second those words leave his mouth, his eyes bug out and flick up to mine. “Y-you know what I mean. Like, I don’t think you’ll need much practice wearing it. It’s a natural look for you,” he rambles.

I take a step toward him, my heart beating faster, adrenaline racing through me. “You think it looks perfect on me?”

I watch the way his pulse point races and his breathing picks up. The effect I have on him makes me feel something I never really have with a guy. Powerful, sexy, desired. I want more of it.

I dip my hand under the hem of his shirt and skim the waistband of his sweats with my fingertips. He’s not wearing boxers.

A deep rumble echoes in his chest; it isn’t loud, but against the backdrop of nothing, I hear it clearly.

“You don’t think I need to test out your jersey anymore?” I ask, knowing the only thing I’m testing right now is how long he can go without putting his hands on me. By the look in his eyes, I’d say, not long—maybe thirty seconds. I pulse at the thought.

Jack runs his thumb across the mark on the side of my neck, one I’ve no idea if his family noticed earlier.

Just like last night, the switch has been flicked, and acompletely different version of him stands in front of me. One I love just as much as his playful side. One I hope that’s exclusive to me.

“What do you want from me, Kitten?” Voice gravelly, he closes his eyes, and his tongue smooths across his bottom lip. “Is it just sex?” He opens them again, pinning me in place. “Or something more?”

Our lips are barely touching, the hot fan of his breath sparking every nerve to life.

“Define more,” I reply. Knowing exactly what I want to hear from him.

Jack swallows thickly, pausing for a second that feels more like an eternity. “A kind of more where none of what we do is for practice. A kind of more where my name is across your back for real because we both want that and not for the benefit of anyone else.” He pulls me into his body, his hard cock pressing into my stomach. “The kind of more where I lay you on my bed and don’t think about whether this is for fun any longer. The kind of more where I can admit my feelings for you and not bury them at the back of my throat.”

“Tell me what you feel.” I’m breathless, knowing the moment he says this out loud, it can never be retracted. It’ll be real.

He drops his forehead to mine; I can tell this is taking every shred of courage he has. “I’ve always cared about you, Kendra. Maybe even when I didn’t have any right to. Maybe more than I should’ve, given that we barely spoke in college. I can’t explain it other than to say I cared about what happened to you. I was fucking gutted when I found out you were going to follow him to New York and give up your dream for some piece of shit. But who was I to say anything? I was no one to you.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he stops me with a finger to my lips.

“Iwasnothing to you, and that’s okay. You thought you were in love, and you were too damn loyal to ever pay attention to other guys. I deliberately kept my distance too.”

“Why?”

He smiles and wraps a piece of my hair around his finger, playing with the strands. “Because I didn’t trust myself. I knew that if I got close to you, then I’d do something that would make me feel shitty. Something that wasn’t me.”

“W-what would you have done?”

“I’d have made a move on you. Thrown my hat into the ring and said,Pick me. You weren’t ready for that though, and I wasn’t willing to show you my cards.” He pauses and the hand that rests on my hip squeezes tighter. “Until now.”

I take a deep breath and blow it out. “I’m ready to hear it now. Tell me.” The pulse in my ears makes it hard to hear the sound of my own voice.

“None of this has ever been fake to me, Kendra. I’ve wanted you for four years, yes. But not just to see how you unravel beneath me. I’ve wanted you on my arm for real. I’ve wanted your candles in my apartment for real. I’ve wanted you to be my girlfriend for fucking real.”

A tear falls down my cheek, and Jack drops my hair, swiping it away.

“Why are you crying?”

I press my forehead into his again, desperate to be closer to him. “After Tyler, I was convinced what I needed was fun. The thought of allowing another guy into my life scared the crap out of me. I was expecting to want to run the moment you said what you just did.” My fingers dip further under his waistband. “But all I want to do is let you have me in any way you want. Nothing about the thought of being with you scares me. You make me too damn happy for that.” I sniffle a laugh. “Even if you think I’m a brat.”

“If you’re a brat, then I’m a glutton for punishment.”

He brings his hand over mine, and we both ease down his sweatpants.