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. Everyfew 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.
Chapter 22
Elena
Ispot Dad through the window of Giordano's, already seated at a booth near the front. My stomach twists with nerves, a feeling I've grown accustomed to lately whenever I think about discussing Nate with him. I straighten my posture and push through the door, reminding myself that I'm a grown woman who doesn't need her father's permission to date anyone—even if that anyone happens to be a hockey player Dad once called "the team's biggest liability."
