Page 45 of Lucky
I shrug.“It was bold.But I meant every word.”
She steps in close, close enough that I can smell the vanilla on her skin and see the freckles across her nose.Her voice is barely above a whisper.“That was either very dumb or very romantic.”
“Can’t it be both?”
She doesn’t answer—just stares at me with those warm, hazel eyes.
I reach up, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, my thumb lingering on her cheek.“So that list… it’s pretty long.”
“Yeah?”
“It includes kissing you good-night like it mattered.”
“Oh,” she breathes out.
“I don’t feel like waiting though…”
Then I kiss her.
It’s not tentative.It’s not polite or unsure.
It’s a kiss that says I want more.That I’m done pretending this is a game.That I’m not going to lose her to hummus-loving men without putting up a fight.
She melts into me, arms winding around my neck, body curving into mine like she’s been waiting for this too.
When we finally part, she’s breathless.
“That…” she says, dazed, “was not normal.”
I grin.“I’m still me, Winnie.Can you accept the not-normal parts too?”
She’s quiet for a second, eyes searching mine.Her gaze flickers to my mouth and back up again.The heat between us is thick now.
She exhales slowly, like the answer’s been building in her all along.“I think I can,” she whispers.
And that’s all I need.
I dip my head and kiss her again—still not tentative and nowhere near teasing.It’s deep, claiming, threaded with everything I’ve been holding back since the first time I saw her on TikTok.
Her hands slide into my hair, her body softening into mine like she belongs there, like this isn’t the first kiss but our hundredth, our thousandth, every missed chance finally caught up to the present.
When we finally break apart again, her eyes are still closed, her lips parted like she’s trying to catch her breath and not let go of the feeling.
And fuck if I don’t feel the exact same way.
This is how it starts.
Not with normal.
But with real.
CHAPTER 15
Winnie
I’m barely outof my car when the morning gauntlet begins.
The carpool lane is backed up as per usual, minivans creeping forward like they’re a man afraid of commitment.I’ve got my coffee in one hand and my giant tote bag over my shoulder, trying to prepare myself mentally for the craziness of glue sticks that no longer glue and children who cannot for the life of them remember where their shoes go.
