Page 63 of No Strings Attached

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Seven.

Six.

“Don’t let this be our ending,” he pleads. “Not like this.”

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

And then?—

Boom.

The sky outside explodes in color.

24

FUCK IT

HENSON

Fuck it.”

That’s all I manage to get out before I grab Amira.

I don’t wait for permission, and don’t try to make it delicate. I just reach for her, hands sliding to her waist, pulling her in like she’s mine to claim—because no matter how badly I’ve fucked this up, she is the only thing I want to hold onto tonight.

And Ineedto kiss her.

If I let this moment pass and watch her close that door, I’ll never forgive myself.

So I kiss her right there in the doorway of my childhood home, while the world outside erupts in cheers and champagne toasts and yells ofHappy New Year!at the sky.

I know this isn’t how Amira imagined her night going.

Hell, it’s not how I imagined mine either.

But I’ll be damned if I let the new year start without kissing the one woman who’s made me feel more in a week than I’ve felt in years.

Amira freezes for a second. Her lips still, her hands curled into fists against my chest, and there’s a split-second in which I think she might shove me off and slam the door in my face.

But then, she exhales and melts into me, hands sliding into my hair. Her body pressed against mine like she doesn’t want there to be any space between us anymore.

I kiss her deeper, holding her face in my hands, feeling everything—relief, regret, hope—pour into every second that passes between our mouths.

Fireworks crack overhead, but none of them compare to the ones exploding in my chest.

When we finally pull apart, Amira’s breathless, flushed, lips slightly parted, and her eyes search mine, as if still deciding whether or not to let me have her heart again.

And I’m praying like hell she does.

25

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