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The room around us bursts with life. Laughter, shouting, the clink of bottles, kids running around and screaming. But right now, it’s just background noise.
It’s just me and Bama, standing in our own little world.
“I think that’s a great idea.” I nod, trying to sound casual, but my stomach does a flip.
“Let’s get outta here.” His hand finds mine, rough yet reassuring.
We weave through the crowd, dodging elbows and spilled drinks.
His grip tightens as we near the staircase, like he’s afraid I’ll slip away.
We reach the bottom of the stairs, and for a moment, I hesitate.
My past flashes before me—broken promises, shattered trust.
But then I look at Bama, and there’s something in his eyes that tells me this is different.
This could be the real thing and I haven’t experienced it . . . so I should give it a real shot, right?
“Ready?” he asks, his voice low and husky.
“Yeah,” I say, taking a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
With every step up those creaky stairs, anticipation coils tighter in my chest.
We reach his door, and he inputs a key code, unlocking it.
Inside, the room is a surprising contrast to the rough exterior. Warm, southern touches—a quilted bedspread, rustic wooden furniture, photos of Alabama landscapes—makes it feel like I’m right in the south.
“You’ve decorated very nicely,” I say, taking it all in.
“Thanks,” he replies, shutting the door behind us. “I’ve never lived away from Alabama until I came here. Guess I tried to take some of it with me.”
“I think you did,” I admit, turning to face him. “And that helps me learn more about you.”
Bama chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that sends shivers down my spine. “Glad it’s a good thing.”
I barely have time to process his words before he’s on me, closing the gap between us in a heartbeat.
His lips crash into mine with a hunger that catches me off guard.
It’s not sweet or gentle—it’s raw, primal, like he’s been starving for this moment.
His hands cup my face, fingers tangling in my hair as he deepens the kiss.
I respond instinctively, my own hands grasping at his leather cut, pulling him closer.
The scent of his faint cologne fills my senses, grounding me in this electric moment.
The world outside his room fades away.
There’s just Bama and me, tangled up in a whirlwind of pent-up emotions.
Our breaths become ragged, mingling in the heated air between us.
Every touch, every movement is charged, like we’re both testing the boundaries of this newfound connection.
He pulls back slightly, just enough to look me in the eyes.
