Page 61 of The Puck Contract

"About what happened in there..." I try again.

"It was just for the dare, right?" Mateo says quickly, finally turning to look at me. "Part of the act?"

The question hangs in the air between us, weighted with possibility. I could agree. Could play it safe, maintain the professional distance that's becoming increasingly hard to remember we're supposed to have.

But the memory of his mouth on mine, eager and demanding, makes lying impossible.

"No," I admit quietly. "Not for me, it wasn't."

He exhales slowly, relief and something like wonder crossing his face. "Not for me either."

We stare at each other, the admission crackling in the air between us.

"I've been thinking about kissing you again since that night outside your apartment," I confess. "Actually, since the first time on my couch. Hell, probably since you showed up at my hotel room door with that ridiculous opening line."

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Are you my boyfriend, then?"

I burst out laughing, but the sound dies down in my throat as quickly as it appeared when his smile gets replaced by something more serious. "But this... this wasn't part of our agreement, Groover."

"I know." I take a step closer, emboldened by the fact that he doesn't back away. "We can amend the terms. Or ignore them entirely. No pressure."

He looks down at his hands, then back up at me, uncertainty written across his features. "I’m… I’m new at this. Frankly, I have no idea what I’m doing."

"I know that too," I assure him, resisting the urge to reach for him. "We can go at your pace. Whatever you're comfortable with."

"And if I want to explore this?" he asks, so quietly I almost miss it over the distant sounds of the city. "Without strings or expectations?"

My heart does a complicated gymnastic routine in my chest. "Then we explore it. Together."

"No strings," he repeats, though it sounds more like he's convincing himself than me. "Just... figuring things out."

"Just figuring things out," I agree, though everything in me rebels against the casualness of the phrase. Because there's nothing casual about the way I feel when he looks at me, nothing simple about the electricity that sparks between us when we touch.

But I'll take what he's offering. Because the alternative—not touching him at all—is suddenly unthinkable.

"Can I kiss you again?" I ask, voice dropping lower. "Not for an audience this time."

He nods, and I step into his space, one hand coming up to cup his cheek. This kiss is different from the one inside—slower, more deliberate, but no less intense. His hands find my waist, holding me steady as we explore each other's mouths with newfound permission.

I walk him backward until his shoulders hit the wall beside the balcony door, crowding him in, giving him the solidsupport I can sense he wants. He makes a soft sound of approval, his hands sliding up my chest to grip my shoulders.

I don't hold back this time.

I let him feel exactly how much I want him, pressing him against the wall with my full body, one thigh slipping between his legs. His gasp is swallowed by my mouth, his hips tilting forward instinctively.

"Still okay?" I murmur against his lips.

"Very okay," he breathes, pulling me back in with surprising strength.

We lose track of time, learning each other through touch and taste. At some point, his hands find their way under the hem of my shirt, palm flat against the small of my back, finger tips tracing the ridges of my spine. I shudder at the contact, my own hands tangled in his hair, angling his head to deepen the kiss further.

It's only when the balcony door slides open that we break apart, both breathing hard.

"Whoops," Becker says, not sounding remotely apologetic. "Don't mind me, just looking for—oh wait, there it is." He grabs a bottle of tequila from a side table, giving us an exaggerated wink. "Carry on, gentlemen. Might want to lock the door though. Devon was looking for the bathroom and this would be an awkward detour."

He slides the door shut behind him, leaving us alone again.

Mateo drops his forehead to my shoulder, a laugh shaking through him. "Your teammates are the worst."

---