Page 32

“Of course. Do you think I’d pick out white bed covers on my own?” I say, picking up one of the pillows. “And these? Not in a million years. But, I have to admit—I do kind of like them.”

We both stand there for an awkward moment and I wonder if she’s thinking the same thing I am.

I’m dying to feel her body against mine again, but we agreed to take it slowly and I’ll be damned if I’m going to push.

If she wants to change her mind, that’s one thing, but I’m not going there unless she’s leading.

Elena's cheeks flush slightly, and I'm sure mine are doing the same.

I run a hand through my still-damp hair. "Maybe we should head back to the living room? I've got some wine waiting, and I bought some snacks."

She nods, somehow looking relieved and disappointed at the same time.

I show her where the remote is. "Pick out a movie? I'll be right back."

When I return to the living room, she's curled up on one end of the sectional, scrolling through movie options.

"Action? Comedy? Horror?" she asks, looking up.

I place the wine and snacks down on the leather ottoman, and I settle beside her, close but not touching. "I'm good with anything."

She selects a psychological thriller that's been getting buzz and sets the remote down. As the opening credits roll, I stretch my arm along the back of the couch, an invitation without pressure.

Elena shifts closer, tucking herself against my side like she belongs there. Her hair smells amazing and I take a deep whiff and hope she doesn’t think that’s weird.

"How was your day?" I ask, my fingers playing with the ends of her hair.

"Good. Busy." She relaxes further against me. "Had a breakthrough with one of the Steel's rookies. Kid's been struggling with some serious performance anxiety."

"That's great." I mean it, genuinely proud of her work with her new team. "They're lucky to have you."

The movie plays on, but I find my attention drifting to the points where our bodies connect—her head against my shoulder, her knee pressed against my thigh, her hand resting lightly on my leg. The casual intimacy of it feels more significant than any passionate encounter I've ever had.

Fifteen minutes into the film, Elena tilts her head up to ask me something about the plot. Our faces are suddenly inches apart, and the question dies on her lips. Her eyes drop to my mouth.

I close the distance between us, kissing her softly. She responds immediately, her hand sliding up to cup my jaw. What begins as gentle quickly deepens, her lips parting beneath mine.

We've been careful about being in these situations—limiting ourselves to goodnight kisses and brief touches. But alone in my apartment, the restraint we've practiced frays at the edges.

I pull her closer, one hand tangling in her hair. She makes a small sound that nearly undoes me. When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard.

"So much for watching the movie," she says with a laugh.

"I wasn't paying attention anyway." I brush my thumb across her lower lip. "Too distracted. And you’re extremely kissable."

She laughs, the sound warming me from the inside out. "Well, I’m not the only one."

We try to focus on the movie again, but within minutes, Elena's fingers are tracing patterns on my arm, and my hand has found its way under the hem of her sweater to the warm skin of her back.

"We're doing it again," she whispers against my neck.

"Doing what?" I ask innocently, even as I press my lips to her temple.

"Getting distracted." She sighs as I trail kisses down to her jaw. "Maybe we should just admit we're not going to watch this movie."

"No, no. We’re watching it. Not watching it is definitely a bad idea," I murmur, capturing her mouth again.

This time, the kiss is slower, deeper—months of longing pouring into each touch. Her hands slide under my shirt, tracing the contours of my chest and stomach. I pull her onto my lap, needing her closer.

When her hips shift against mine, I groan, breaking the kiss to rest my forehead against hers.

"We shouldn’t be doing this," I say, though stopping is the last thing I want to do.

She nods, her eyes dark. "You're right. We agreed."

"I want to do this right, Elena." I trail my hand down her soft cheek.

"I know. Me too. It's just..."

"Hard," I finish for her. "Literally, in my case."

She laughs, pressing her face against my neck. "You're terrible."

"You like it."

"I do," she admits. "Way too much."

We settle back into watching the movie, though neither of us could explain the plot if someone held a gun to our head. Every few minutes, one of us initiates another kiss, unable to maintain distance.

"Maybe we need a chaperone," Elena suggests after another extended make-out session leaves us both breathless.

"Or separate couches," I add. "Maybe we should even be in separate rooms.”

She laughs, then grows serious. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For respecting the boundaries we set. For not pushing." Her fingers trace my jawline. "For understanding why this needs to be different this time."

"I want different too," I say, realizing how true it is. "I've never done this before."

She rests her head on my shoulder. "It's kind of nice, though, right? Getting to know each other without sex complicating things."

"Nice isn't exactly the word I'd use," I tease. "But I get what you mean."

By the time the movie ends—somehow, we actually made it through—it's late. Elena yawns, stretching like a cat.

"Stay," I say, the word out before I can reconsider. "Just to sleep. It's late, and I..." I swallow, suddenly nervous. "I just want to hold you."

"Okay," she says tentatively.

In my bedroom, I lend her a T-shirt to sleep in. She disappears into the bathroom to change, and I take the opportunity to pull the extra pillows off the bed and pull the covers down.

When she emerges, my shirt hanging to mid-thigh, hair tousled, I'm struck by how much I want this—not just tonight, but every night.

We slide under the covers, and she immediately curls against me, her head on my chest, leg thrown over mine. I wrap my arms around her, breathing in the scent of her.

"This is nice," she murmurs, already drifting toward sleep.

"The nicest," I agree, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Her breathing deepens, body growing heavy with sleep. I stare at the ceiling, feeling her warm skin against mine.

I could do forever like this.

The thought doesn't scare me like it would have even two months ago. Instead, it settles in my chest, warm and certain.