More fans have gathered, and their cheers are a soundtrack to this moment that feels entirely private and strangely public. But for once, I don't feel the need to make myself smaller, to hide from view. With Alder's arm around me, I think it is exactly the right size.
The word hangs unspoken between us: love. Not a summer fling. Not a convenient arrangement. Something real and lasting and worth fighting for.
I reach up and grip his shoulders. "Take me home, Alder."
CHAPTER 35
ALDER
I can't stop lookingat her. All the way to my townhouse, I steal glances at Lena in the passenger seat—the curve of her jaw, her fingers tap nervously against her thigh, the slight smile that appears and disappears as she processes everything that just happened. Neither of us speaks, the air between us electric with anticipation. We've said what matters in front of cameras and management; now we need to say the rest with our bodies.
Gordie greets us at the door with the appropriate enthusiasm, his entire body wiggling with joy. He circles Lena's legs, whining and snuffling, ecstatic that she's back where he believes she belongs.
"I think someone missed you," I say, the first words either of us has spoken since leaving the parking garage.
"I missed him too," Lena says, crouching to scratch behind Gordie's ears. When she looks up at me, her eyes are bright with emotion. "I missed both of you."
The press conference feels like it happened in another lifetime. The carefully worded statements, the professional posturing, the tension of waiting for consequences—all of it fades in the face of this moment. Lena, back in my home. Our home, if she wants it to be.
"Are you hungry?" I ask because I need to say something… anything to keep from grabbing her right here in the entryway.
She straightens, stepping closer to me. "Not for food."
My breath catches in my throat. Gordie, oblivious to the tension building between us, chooses this moment to bring over his favorite chew toy, dropping it at our feet with an expectant woof.
"Not now, buddy," I tell him, not taking my eyes off Lena.
"We should probably..." she begins.
"Yeah," I agree, understanding immediately.
I scoop up Gordie, who protests with a confused whine, and carry him to my bedroom. I grab his favorite treats from the dresser, scatter them on the floor, and then add his second-favorite toy for good measure.
"Stay," I tell him firmly, backing out of the room and closing the door.
The soft click of the latch is like a starting gun. When I turn, Lena is there, just steps away in the hallway, her eyes dark with want. We stare at each other for one suspended moment, the last thread of restraint stretched between us.
Then she moves. Her hands come up to my chest, pushing me back against the wall with surprising force. I go willingly, my back hitting the framed family photos with a thud.
"I've missed you so much,” she whispers against my mouth, and then she's kissing me, fierce and claiming.
I respond instantly, my hands framing her face, then sliding into her hair, destroying whatever professional style she'd carefully created this morning. She tastes like she is coming home after too long away.
The kiss deepens, months of longing and forced separation disappearing as our bodies remember each other. Her tongue slides against mine, and I groan, pulling her closer until there's not a whisper of space between us. She can feelexactly what she does to me, how quickly she brings me to aching hardness.
"Bedroom," I manage between kisses, though I'm already working at the buttons of her blouse.
"Too far," she gasps as my lips find her neck, her head tipping back to give me better access.
She's right. Ten steps to what was once her room—it might as well be miles. We're not going to make it.
My hands slide under her thighs, lifting her against me. Her legs wrap around my waist as I spin us, pressing her against the opposite wall. Frames rattle. Something falls. Neither of us cares.
We sink to the floor in a tangle of limbs and half-removed clothing. My tie is strangling me, and my jacket is twisted behind me like a straitjacket. Lena isn't faring much better; her blouse is hanging open but caught at her wrists, and her skirt hikes up around her hips.
I curse as I yank at my tie, somehow making the knot tighter. Lena laughs, the sound turning to a gasp as I give up on the tie and palm her breast through her bra instead.
"Let me," she says, reaching for the tie. Her fingers deftly loosen the knot that had defeated me, sliding the silk free from my collar.
