I hooked my fingers under her knee. “Coincidences happen. Besides, a lot of cars look like this.”
A velvety laugh rolled out of her. “Sure. Just a coincidence. Totally random. You, in a chauffeured car, pausing in traffic every time I happen to walk by.”
I glanced up from her leg. That was an exaggeration, but… “You’ve been keeping track?”
She gasped into her hand. “Are you accusing me of stalkingyou?”
“No,” I murmured, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Just…noticing your noticing.”
She pressed her leg into mine. “You’re cute, and coincidence or not, I don’t care. I’m happy to see you.”
“Yeah?” I tilted my head toward her. “I am too. It’s been a very long day.”
Reaching over, she bunched my shirt in her fist. “Kiss me first, then tell me about it.”
I didn’t have to be asked twice. My lips landed on hers, soft and slow, testing. She tasted like vanilla and coffee, her tongue warm, lips plush and wet—exactly what I’d been needing.
She let out a low, satisfied moan and tugged at my shirt.
I smiled against her mouth. “I can’t get much closer.”
She huffed. “You’re too tall. Come down here.”
I took my glasses off, set them on the bench beside me, and gathered her into my arms. My hand slid into her hair, fingers tangling in the silky blue strands as I angled my mouth over hers, deepening the kiss.
The world narrowed to the smooth slide of her mouth, the way she melted into me, the quiet thud of her heart syncing with mine.
“This is what I needed,” I murmured, nipping at her bottom lip.
She pulled back, her eyes flicking to mine. “Did your talk with Sam not go well?”
Sighing, I dropped my forehead to hers. “It went fine. We hashed it out. But something is off, and I’m not able to fix it. I’m frustrated.”
She wrapped her arms around me and stroked my neck and the top of my shoulders. “It can’t be easy to mix business with friendship.”
“It was good in the beginning. For years, it worked. But now? I’m not sure we can keep going the way we are.” I shook my head. “Enough. I’m tired of thinking about Sam and Nox. I’d rather think about you.”
That made her smile. “You’d rather think about me?” she teased, her voice dancing lightly. “Have I told you I like the way you say what you’re thinking? I never have to guess.”
“In that case, I’d like to tell you what has been on my mind since Saturday.”
She pecked my lips and cheek. “Please do.”
“I like you. I want you. I think about you all the time. And I don’t want you seeing anyone else.” I paused. “Only me.”
“Okay,” she replied. “I want the same.”
I blinked several times, letting her agreement sink in. “That was easy.”
She laughed. “Did you think I’d argue?” Then she gave my chest a light shove. “I wouldn’t tolerate anyone but my boyfriend stalking me.”
“Didn’t you admit you were doing the stalking?”
Boyfriend.
Yes. Yes, I like that.
Her head fell back as more laughter burst from her, bright and unfiltered. I couldn’t help but smile, enamored at the way the late light played over her features. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes alive, her mouth curled into that smirk that knocked the wind out of me.
