After dinner, my mom suggested everyone go get ice cream, but Ayden and I stayed behind with my dad who retired to his office about thirty minutes ago to put together a band line-up for his club.

I tap the skip button, moving to the next song, “My Heroine” by Silverstein. “Much better.”

“Much better?” Ayden cocks his brow. “It’s as slow as the last one playing.”

I hold up a finger. “Give it a minute.” I sway my hips to the slow rhythm of the song while sweeping my hands through my hair. When the tempo quickly picks up, I grin cockily at Ayden. “See. Much better.”

He chuckles, a rare but breathtaking sound. Then he sets his pen and paper aside on the coffee table and stretches his arms above his head. “Do I lose points against me for not knowing that?”

“Hmmm . . .” I thrum my finger on my bottom lip as I amble across the living room toward him. “I might consider letting you keep all your points for a small fee, of course.”

“And what’s the fee?” he asks, mildly amused.

I straddle his lap and announce my fee with my actions. He briefly tenses from the contact then relaxes when I tangle my fingers through his hair.

“There. Much better,” I whisper. “I don’t like you being so far away.”

He offers me a small smile. “I wanted to sit by you, but I worried your dad would maybe get mad or something.”

“That we were sitting on the couch together?”

“I don’t know . . . yeah. I mean, I worried maybe they’ll figure out we have something going on.”

“Have something going on?” I playfully tease. “I’m not sure what you mean. What’s going on?”

He stares at me, unimpressed. “I mean our relationship that they don’t know about yet.”

“Oh, right. I completely forgot about that.” I smile innocently at him, and he pinches my side, causing me to yelp. “No fair.” I pinch him back, right on his chest.

Tension ripples through his body as he stiffens from my unexpected touch.

“Sorry.” I quickly apologize. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I-it’s okay,” he stammers through a loud exhale. Then he takes my hand and lines my palm right over his thundering heart. “You just surprised me. That’s all . . . You can . . . I’m fine with you touching me on the outside of my shirt. You know that, right?” His off-pitch tone reveals exactly how difficult it is for him to say that.

Touching Ayden is a gift.

One I’m grateful he gives me.

I just wish I could have it all the time.

Every day and night.

On and on and on.

Forever.

I lean forward and place a kiss on his lips. His breathing accelerates as he grasps onto my hips, and I smile to myself, secretly loving that I can make him react like that.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this here,” he mutters as I kiss him again. “Your dad’s in the next room, and your mom could walk in at any moment.”

“Don’t worry about them.” I rock my hips against his, eliciting a groan from him. “Only stop if you want to stop.”

Please, please, don’t stop.

Ever, ever, ever.

His protests shift into throaty moans as he deepens the kiss, entangling our tongues, tasting me deeply while his hands travel up and down my sides. His fingers trace each bump of my ribs before drifting down to the hem of my black and purple dress. His fingers tremble as he fiddles with the bottom, something he usually does.

Having more than likely suffered from sexual abuse while being kidnapped, intimacy is complicated with Ayden. Touching me is less of a problem than getting touched himself, but he’s always a bit unsettled.

“Do we need to slow down?” I ask then steal another taste of his lips.

“I don’t know.” He puts a sliver of space between our mouths, breathing hotly against my lips. “It’s getting easier. Sort of. I mean, I don’t panic as much, and I feel like I want . . .” He trails off, his eyes glazed over and pupils dilated, as if he’s high from the kiss.

High on our kiss.

Dazed by our connection

And the overpowering heat

Of our bodies,

Our souls.

Intoxicated by love.

God, how I wish,

Wish that were the truth.

After searching my eyes, his lips return to mine, and his hand slides underneath my dress, silently answering my question. I fall into his touch, desperately tumbling into a place I once dreamed about but now know exists.

Love.

I’m pretty sure I’m in love with Ayden, but fear has stopped me from telling him, terrified that my declaration will freak him out.

He cups my ass, pushing me closer until our bodies conform. I slide my arms around him then trace my fingers up and down the nape of his neck, kissing him with everything I’m feeling, hoping it’ll be enough to get it out of my system.

When his mouth leaves mine, I make a raspy protest, but words get lost as he places tender kisses down my jawline to my neck. He sucks and nips on the flesh, causing my body to swelter with overbearing heat.

“Ah . . . This feels so good,” I moan with my head tipped back, clutching onto his shoulders and wishing the moment would never end.

But as soon as the wish surfaces, the front door opens, the alarm goes off, and the moment goes poof. We scramble apart, breathless, our clothes and hair in disarray. I stumble across the room back to the sofa, smoothing my dress back into place. Dropping down on the cushion, I quickly scoop up my sketchpad and pencil right as the alarm gets shut off.