Page 171 of Lose You Twice

I’m breathless when we finally break apart. He rests his forehead against mine as he gets his breathing back under control.

We stand there for a moment before he moves, tipping my chin up to meet his gaze. “Do you want me to take you home?” he asks, his voice husky, just as affected by this as I am.

My answer is simple, and I’ve never been more sure of anything. “No.”

His eyes darken as he kisses me again before nudging me into my seat and walking around to his side. I don’t miss the adjustment he has to make before getting in, and that little fact puts a small grin on my face as we head back to his place.

I hold the flowers in my lap because I need something to do with my hands in order to keep them to myself. But after the second stoplight, I give up and reach for him. Kai turns his palm up immediately, threading our fingers together over the console like he’s been waiting for me to make the first move.

Grayson is gone when we get to the apartment. I know because his shoes aren’t by the door and because Harlow texted me after the game.

Harlow: Gray’s staying at my place tonight. I want exactly zero details. Love you.

Kai takes the flowers from my hands and lays them on the counter before taking my bag and hanging it over the back of one of the stools. He looks around the kitchen, almost begging for something to clean. He’s nervous.

“Kai.”

He turns. “Yeah?”

I walk toward him. “Your kitchen is clean. Your roommate is gone. We just got back from our second first date, and if you tell me we don’t have to do anything, I’m going to scream.”

He scoffs. “I wasn’t going to say that.”

I lift a brow at him, and he grins sheepishly, coming to stand right in front of me. “Okay, maybe I was going to say something similar to that, but not because I don’t want to.”

He studies me, his eyes moving between mine, searching for something, an answer maybe? To a question he hasn’t quite asked. “I don’t know how to do this, and it not mean…more. It’s not just something casual. You are not something casual, and I don’t want to freak you out by bringing up feelings and all that, and I⁠—”

I kiss him, half to stop his overthinking spiral, half to answer his silent question.

I pull back only slightly. “I want this to mean something.”

This time, he kisses me.

There is no gentle lead-in this time. His hands cup my face as I grab his shirt, pulling him down as his mouth opens over mine. All day has been building toward this—the glances at the rink, the flowers, his thumb over my knuckles, the quiet drive back—and the touch of his mouth gives all of it somewhere to go.

He walks me backward until my hips hit the kitchen island. He lifts me then, sitting me on the edge of the counter, and my hands explore his shoulders, down to his chest through the fabric of his shirt. I play with the buttons, and the sound he makes against my mouth says he’s fine with it coming off.

His hand slides to my waist, warm and firm, and I arch into him without meaning to.

“Kai.”

He pauses immediately, breathing hard. I shake my head before he can pull away. “We should probably move to your room.”

For half a second, he just looks at me.

Then he picks me up, and I laugh quietly into his neck and wrap my legs around his middle as he carries me down the hall.

Kai’s room is dim, lit by the small lamp on his nightstand. It smells like fresh sheets and soap with a hint of mint, like him.

He sets me down, and for a moment, we stand there, my hands idly playing in the hair at his nape, his eyes scanning my face. I thought this part might feel awkward, but it doesn’t. It feels like slipping into something new, but familiar.

One careful hand, thumb brushing below my eye, then over the freckles there.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

I cover his hand with mine, kissing his palm. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Oh yeah?” His mouth curves, but his eyes stay hot. “I’ve been thinking about you since you walked into my apartment with Harlow a few months ago.”