Page 49 of Well That Happened

I don’t say anything.

I just step forward and wrap my arms around him.

He goes still for a breath—like he’s surprised. Then his hands slide gently to my back, one between my shoulder blades, the other lower, pulling me closer.

And suddenly I’m not just hugging him.

I’mholding onto him.

His chin dips against my hair. We stay like that for a long, quiet beat. No noise from the party. Just his breath and mine. The steady thump of his heart against my chest.

Then I tilt my head.

Look up at him.

And he’s already watching me.

I don’t even know who leans in first.

Maybe we both do.

But when his mouth meets mine, it’s slow. Careful. Like he’s trying not to scare me off.

I kiss him back.

Harder.

My fingers curl into the front of his shirt, tugging him down. His hands tighten at my waist, grounding and hungry all at once. He tosses his hat onto the floor.

The kiss deepens.

His tongue brushes mine, and I make a sound—low and needy, embarrassing in any other context, but right now, it just feelsreal.

He walks me backward until my calves hit the bed.

I sit.

He follows, mouth never leaving mine, one hand sliding under the hem of my corset top like he needs to feel skin.

And ohGod, when he does—

I gasp.

He pulls back just enough to whisper, “Tell me if I need to stop.”

My voice is shaky. “Don’t.”

So he kisses me again, deeper this time, and I let myself forget everything but this.

Him.

His hands.

His mouth.

And for a few perfect minutes, I don’t think about Grayson or Hunter or anything else.

Justthis.

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