Page 31

Then she tapped Dre’s shoulder. “Pull over?”

He glanced back in the mirror.

I looked at her, brow raised. “You serious?”

She nodded, eyes already locked on the window. “Dead.”

I followed her gaze.

Tiny corner pizza shop. Neon sign half-lit. Booths with peeling leather. Two kids tossing dough behind the glass like it mattered.

“I saw you nibbling on food all night.” I said, smirking.

“I’m starving,” she said, pushing the door open. “And that party food was all vibes and air.”

That made me laugh.

So we stepped out—me in slate gray, her in black satin—and walked into the kind of place nobody expected to see us in.

The warmth hit first. Spring air was funny like that. One minute you feel summer peaking out and then the fringes of winter shut her up. Then the garlic hit. Cheese. Tomato. Grease on wax paper. A holy smell if you were raised right.

We ordered at the counter. She got pepperoni. Extra cheese. I kept it plain. Folded it like ritual.

She took one bite, let out a sound so soft and guttural it made my jaw clench.

“Careful,” I said, eyes still on her delicious mouth.

She wiped the cornerwith a napkin. “What?”

“You makin’ sounds you might have to back up.”

That little laugh she gave me did something reckless to my pulse.

We slid into a booth by the window, red neon washing over her skin like something holy. Her dress clung to her body in a way that made it impossible to look anywhere else—soft curves, smooth golden brown skin catching the low light like it had been dipped in honey and satin. Her lips glistened from the gloss, or maybe from the grease she’d just licked away, slow and casual, off the corner of her mouth.

I watched it happen. Watched her tongue sweep that bottom lip while the cheese from her slice melted down her fingers.

God.

My bracelet caught the light when I dragged my thumb over the edge of my plate, pretending I wasn’t staring.

But I was.

Her eyes met mine for a second too long, and there was a knowing in them. Like she felt it too. Like she was letting me.

We ate in silence for a while, but it wasn’t the awkward kind. It was the kind that felt like... us. The kind that pulsed with things we weren’t saying yet.

“You always been like this?” I asked, my voice lower than I meant it to be.

She blinked. “Like what?”

“Focused. Guarded. Beautiful…”

I leaned in a little, couldn’t help it. My eyes dropped to her mouth.

“...And fully aware of what that means.”

“I’m not guarded.”