Page 63 of Like First Love, Again

Tori was about to tell the man that they were moving when Mia beat her to it. “Excuse me?” Mia gasped, face dressed up in insult.

In the space of a racing heartbeat, the heat drained from Tori’s body. Was Mia actually offended? Not at the man, but at being labeled? But then Mia laughed and Tori’s dread disappeared.

“Sir, I ammuchmore of a Sarah Paulson.” With a flourish, Mia grabbed her bag and took Tori’s hand. She interlaced their fingers and held her like a proclamation. Like a booming declaration.

The rain followed them all the way to the Italian restaurant near Mia’s house, but Tori couldn’t find a single fuck to give about being late anymore. When they walked into the private dining room she’d reserved for the occasion, Mia’s hand still in hers, Tori was floating.

At Mia’s return, a dozen people stood and cheered and yelledsurprise, even though it was no longer a surprise. Holding the center of attention like a sun at the center of the solar system, Mia shone.

And Tori watched her from the corner where Daniela’s new husband and two other dudes were talking about golf. Comfortable standing back and quietly observing, Tori held the sweating glass of Prosecco someone handed her and locked onto Mia like she was gravity. Her smile the inescapable force of attraction.

God, she was so beautiful when she smiled like that. When she threw her head back and laughed with her whole chest. When she grabbed someone’s face with both hands and kissed their cheeks like she’d been gone for years instead of a few months. She was dazzling. Effortless. Loud in the way Tori could never be—not without rehearsing, not without faking.

Tori’s chest ached with how much she loved her. And how badly she wanted to get the hell out of there.

Not because she didn’t want this. Sheplannedthis. But now that Mia was here, right in front of her, all Tori could think about was peeling the black dress over her head and throwing it to the floor. She wanted quiet. She wanted every inch of Mia. Every whisper of her breath. Every drip of her perfume.

Dinner was decent and Tori was happy to nurse her mocktail so that Mia and Daniela and a few others could drink shots like they were still in college. So they could laugh and reminisce and have hangovers tomorrow.

It was easy to slip away from the conversation Tori was barely participating in when she needed a break from the noise. She left the private room to find the server and pay the hefty bill. She was pulling open the door of a single-stall bathroom when Mia came up behind her and pushed her inside.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tori asked with a startled laugh when Mia locked the door behind her.

Mia didn’t speak as she stalked toward her, looking at her like she was starving. She didn’t speak when she pushed Tori against the sink and grabbed her hips, didn’t speak when she crashed her mouth to hers.

Sinking her teeth into Tori’s bottom lip, Mia tugged hard before kissing her again. Before claiming her with her tequila-soaked tongue and her hands on Tori’s belt.

“Mia,” Tori panted, drunk on her kiss and unsure of what she meant to say. Her thoughts were a spiral; her body was on fire.

“If you don’t take me home.” Mia grabbed her by the wrist. “Right fucking now.” She guided Tori’s hand under her dress, her thigh smooth and hot and devastating. “I’m going to die.” She left Tori’s hand under the fabric and kissed her hard enough to bruise.

“I don’t know.” Tori dug her blunt nails into the soft swell of Mia’s ass. “You feel pretty alive to me.”

Mia’s lips twitched against Tori’s hungry mouth. Her fingers in Tori’s hair curling into a tight fist when she pulled her head back. “Take me home,” she repeated like a threat, eyes dark and alive with palpable want.

Fuck.

Thirty-Three

Rain in her hair and Tori on her lips, Mia regretted her delayed flight. With more time, she would have misted her sheets with some sexy fragrance. Would have lit candles and set up a playlist and done all kinds of romantic things worthy of Tori.

“Take this off,” Tori demanded, hands already clawing at her dress as they stumbled into Mia’s house.

“I think you can handle it yourself,” Mia teased, arms around Tori’s neck and pulling her backward into her bedroom.

Tori smirked into their frantic kiss. Mia imagined her teeth like the point of a blade catching moonlight—seductive and dangerous and mesmerizing. And then Tori was yanking off her dress in a single, decisive move.

Instead of ravaging her like Mia expected, Tori slowed when they neared the foot of the bed. A soft glow from the backyard flood light cut across the room and illuminated Tori’s face. Mia’s chest ached at the sight of her. Her features so soft, they had no right slicing her to the bone.

Running her fingertips along the edge of Mia’s bra, Tori bit her bottom lip. The way her expression changed when she followed the swell of her breast forced Mia’s pulse into a sprint.

“You’re so beautiful,” Tori whispered, lips skimming the column of her neck.

Mia opened her mouth to disagree with a sprinkle of self-deprecation, but Tori’s hand was cupping her breast and sending a rush of heat dancing over her skin. Her touch was so confident, so purposeful, Mia’s objection turned into a sigh.

“I want to see you.” Mia couldn’t hide the tremble in her voice or her fingers when she reached for the buttons on Tori’s shirt.

“But I’m still looking at you,” Tori teased, teeth on Mia’s collarbone and open palms sliding down her hips. “Wait your turn.”

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