"How so?" She turns to face me fully, her eyes searching mine.
"Everyone already thinks we're having a summer fling." I move closer, lowering my voice. "Maybe we should stop fighting it."
Her breath hitches almost imperceptibly. "Alder..."
"No pressure," I continue quickly. "No expectations. Just... this." I run a hand lightly down her side, feeling her shiver under my touch. "For as long as it makes sense."
Lena's eyes darken, her lips parting slightly.
"We'll be discreet." I move closer still, nearly closing the gap between us. "It's not like we're planning forever here. Just... addressing what's already happening."
She studies my face, and I can practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she weighs options and considers the consequences. Then, something in her expression shifts, softening.
Hope surges through me as she leans in, her lips brushing my ear as she whispers, "Take me home, Alder."
CHAPTER 23
LENA
The rideshare pulls awayfrom Gunnar and Emerson's building, leaving no evidence of our hasty departure. We didn't say goodbye to anyone—not to Alder's brothers, not to Coach, not even to the bride and groom. One moment, we were standing by the river, Alder's hand trailing down my side as he suggested we stop fighting our attraction, and the next, we were slipping through the crowd and out to the street, his phone already summoning a car since we’d been drinking.
The air between us in the backseat crackles, electric. Alder sits close enough that his thigh presses against mine, the heat of him burning through the thin fabric of my dress. Neither of us speaks. What is there to say when we've finally acknowledged what's been building for weeks? I can’t bring myself to worry about work right now.
Alder's phone buzzes, and he checks it. The blue glow of the screen illuminates his profile.
"LeMarcus," he explains, his voice low and rough. "Gordie's settled in my room. He had some chicken and took his meds."
"That's good," I manage, though at this moment, Gordie is the furthest thing from my mind. My entire body thrums withanticipation, need, and the knowledge that soon—finally—Alder's hands will be on me.
Alder types a quick response, then tucks his phone away. "I told him we're on our way and to feel free to head home."
"Good," I say again, unable to summon more eloquent words. I hope LeMarcus takes the hint and doesn't linger. As much as I appreciate his care for Gordie, I need Alder with a ferocity that surprises me. It’s really all I can do right now to keep my hands out of my underwear in the back seat of this car.
A small, rational part of my brain tries to remind me of all the complicated reasons—the team's fraternization policy, my desperate fiscal need for this job, and the fact that we're both on the rebound. But that voice is drowned out by the insistent pulse between my legs, the memory of Alder's eyes darkening as he looked at me in my underwear, the way his hands felt on my waist as we danced.
We're not promising each other forever. We're not even promising each other tomorrow. This is about tonight, about finally giving in to the attraction that's been building since that kiss in Brad's apartment—if I'm being honest since the first day I moved into Alder's townhouse.
The car stops in front of our building, and Alder helps me out, his hand lingering at the small of my back as we walk to the door. The simple touch feels different now—possessive, intentional. My skin tingles beneath his palm.
LeMarcus is in the living room when we enter, his backpack already slung over one shoulder. "Hey, there's the party people," he says with a grin that suggests he knows exactly what's going on. "Gordo’s all tucked in and comfy."
"Thanks, man," Alder says, his voice admirably steady. "You're a lifesaver."
"No worries.” LeMarcus's eyes flick between us, taking in our tense postures as we're both slightly flushed. "Well, I'll head out. My ma's expecting me."
"Let me get you some cash," Alder says, already pulling out his wallet.
I shift impatiently as they handle the transaction, eager for LeMarcus to leave so we can be alone. Finally, finally, he heads for the door.
"Take care of that dog," LeMarcus says, then adds with a smirk, "and yourselves."
The door closes behind him, and suddenly, we're standing in the entryway, the air thick with anticipation.
"We should check on Gordie," Alder says, though his eyes never leave mine.
"Of course," I agree.
We move down the hallway to Alder's bedroom, where Gordie is indeed settled on the bed, cone around his neck, eyes half-closed with medication. He wags his tail weakly when he sees us.
