Page 107 of Changing the Playbook
The opening notes of “Wonderwall” fill the room.
I groan. “This song haunted every dance from middle school through college.”
“And now it’s stalking your graduate school mixer. Full circle of terrible.”
“I hate this song with the fire of a thousand suns.”
“Dance with me anyway.”
“Mike…”
But he’s already guiding me back to the floor, and resistance proves futile when he looks at me with his combination of heat and tenderness. This time he holds me closer from the start, apparently deciding propriety is overrated.
“People are watching,” I murmur, though I make no effort to create distance.
“Let them.”
“My professors are definitely watching and judging.”
“Good,” he says. “They should know you’re taken.”
The possessiveness in his voice warms me. “Is that what I am? Taken?”
“Do you want to be?”
The question hangs between us, heavier than he probably intended. I press closer instead of answering, melting into his solid warmth, letting the awful song wash over us.
“Sophie?”
“Hmm?”
“It’s time to go.”
I pull back to find his eyes dark with unmistakable intent, pupils blown wide. Whatever he sees in my face makes him grab my hand and navigate us toward the exit with single-minded purpose.
The second we’re outside, he spins me against the brick wall beside the entrance, his mouth crashing down on mine. This kiss is desperate and demanding, all tongues and teeth and the promises he’s been making all night.
My hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. He groans into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me as his body cages mine against the wall, hard and firm andMike.
“Car,” I gasp when we break for air. “Now.”
He doesn’t argue, just grabs my hand and practically drags me across the parking lot. The second we’re inside his car, he hauls me halfway across the console, resuming the kiss with increased fervor.
“Wait—” I manage. “Drive. Your place is closer.”
“Thank God.”
He starts the car one-handed, the other still tangled in my hair. I try to shift back to my seat, but he holds me for one more scorching kiss that tells me exactly where this night is heading.
“Safety first,” I say, breathless.
“Now she’s concerned about safety.”
But he releases me so I can buckle my seatbelt. His hand immediately finds my thigh once he’s navigating out of the parking lot, thumb stroking patterns that make coherent thought impossible.
“For the record,” he says as he pulls into his complex, “I enjoyed tonight.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my throat tight. “Mike…”
