Page 77 of Press Play

He carefully lowers my legs, his touch lingering on my skin like a promise. Gently, he adjusts my dress, his fingers skimmingmy thighs, leaving trails of goose bumps that seep into my skin. When he lies down beside me, he leans in close, and his scent—something familiar and warm—surrounds me, grounding me in the afterglow. His hand finds mine, our fingers interlocking, and the steady beat of his pulse against my own racing heartbeat is a reminder that this is real, that he’s right here.

My small gasps are the only sound to fill the room. With one final exhale, I turn to face him.

“What are you looking at?” I ask with a shy smile.

“The most magnificent woman I’ll ever see,” he responds in a low whisper.

Flipping onto his side, he brushes a loose curl from my face. His hair is also messy, thanks to my fingers, but I don’t dare fix it. I want to remember this moment for as long as I can. Commit him to memory and soak this in.

“You feel this too, right?” he murmurs, his voice low and unguarded.

As I look at him, my heart leaps into my throat, and the air I just regained vanishes. “Feel what?” I ask.

He traces my jawline with his thumb, his touch both familiar and electrifying. “This. The spark.”

His words hang between us, heavy and charged, and my chest tightens with a longing I’ve been too afraid to name. It’s like he’s reading the thoughts I’ve kept buried, and the realization is both exhilarating and terrifying. Here, with him, I’m finally seen—completely and undeniably.

“Yes,” I whisper, barely audible. “I feel it too.”

Theo places a kiss on my lips, and I can taste myself. I can’t help but chuckle, and his grin widens as he looks at me. “What’s so funny?” he asks.

“You taste like me.” I snicker.

Placing his hands on my cheeks, he brings me in and kisses me long and hard. I try to pull away, but he doesn’t stop.

“Theo,” I laugh.

His smile breaks our kiss, and when he pulls back, I blush.

“It’s divine, isn’t it?”

I can’t bring myself to respond. Instead, I sit up and reach for my underwear. “Before we head back, do you think your mom still has any of your baggy shirts? My boobs are killing me.”

There are several reasons I don’t dress up. One of them is that I can’t find a bra that doesn’t dig into my rib cage. Underwire is a crime against all women.

“Umm, let’s see.” Theo stands and goes to his closet without any further questions.

When he pulls out a cotton tee, I almost sob in relief.

“Thank you! Can you unzip me?” I ask while standing and turning around.

“No,thankyou,” he says, and I chuckle while slapping his hand.

The back of my dress loosens, and before I can reach back to unhook my bra, Theo does it in one swift motion.

“Theodore!” I scold through a laugh.

“What?” he asks in an innocent tone.

“I could have done that myself.”

“Why would you when I’m right here?”

“Maybe I don’t want you to see my boobs?” I say while turning around. “Don’t look.” I place my hands on his shoulders and spin him around.

“So you’ll come on my face, but I can’t see your tits?” He teases me, his grin wicked.

I cross my arms, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably. “Don’t flatter yourself,” I say, though my cheeks burn. “Maybe I just didn’t want to give you all the satisfaction.”

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